


Uncuff Me

by chkoh85



Series: Troyler Oneshot - Cuffed [3]
Category: Troyler - Fandom, Troyler RPF, Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF, youtube - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Angst, Bottom Troye, Detective Tyler Oakley, Dirty Talk, Drama, Handcuff, Happy Ending, Humor, M/M, POV Third Person, Plot Twists, Public Sex, Rimming, Sequel to Cuffed, Slutty Troye, Streetrat Troye Sivan, Teasing, Thirsty Tyler, Top Tyler, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 04:47:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 68,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7345519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chkoh85/pseuds/chkoh85
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Detective Oakley just has too much pride about who he dates. But it's just his luck that the one that would break all his rules would be the one and only Troye Sivan. One night of raw passion and Detective Oakley is doomed. Or is he? *The story is a sequel to Troyler Oneshot - Cuffed. This story can be read individually but it's always good to read Cuffed first, since it'll give you a better picture of the characters' dynamic with each other.*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> A/N:  
> Hi guys! Now before you think I have a kink for cuffing people up, just wanted to clarify that no, I do not have a kink cuffing people up. Nope, I promise. But what this is, is that I'm writing a short chaptered story based on the Cuffed universe, sort of like a sequel to it and I'm pretty excited for this story, tbh. It's going to be a bit angsty, smutty (duh), and probably a little drama in there. But yeah, I hope you guys will like it. If you do, please leave me a review, I'll be super happy to read it. :) Enjoy~
> 
> Cheers!
> 
> Chin 3

Conflict. It denotes the struggle between two opposing forces to achieve victory. It's a predominant emotion that arises deep within oneself, consciously or otherwise, when faced with extreme indecision. Like how the serene sound of quietness in the room, the warm bed he was lying in and the enveloping touch of the soft linen covering his naked skin, they were all very agreeable to the idea of wandering back into his dreamy sleep. But the opposing idea would be waking up, no matter how heavy the reluctance weighed, still posed an incredible amount of power, especially when the gnawing noise unrelentingly pulling him out of his sleepy haze.

Troye couldn't remember when was the last time he had slept so good, and he also couldn't remember when he had been so warm and comfortable and well-rested. Which precisely the reason for his irritated grunts and his flailing arms, in search for something, anything, that will make the noise stop. Having no pillow under his head or in the vicinity within his arm's reach, he resorted to pulling the cover pass his head and twisted his body so that the cover wrapped around his body like a cocoon would.

But even after the great effort to stay asleep, the persistent noise kept nagging at him to wake. He whined and grabbed on the cover tighter and twisted himself even further in the cocoon, successfully adding more layers of cloth between the noise and him. Only then, he was satisfied and he hummed a content sigh into his warm and comfortable cocoon.

However, to his utmost annoyance, the contentment was cut short when he felt his bed move beneath him and the spring creaked under the weight of another person. Amongst all that, he felt a hand brushed against his leg before groping at his foot, and then something that felt unmistakably like warm breaths and prickly stubble rubbing against his sole.

As ticklish as he is, his immediate knee-jerk reaction, quite literally, was to get away from that tickling sensation. So he kicked, the sensation was gone but only to hear a loud thud like something heavy landed on the floor and a muttered, _fuck_ and followed by a long, low groan.

There's something about that sound and how the bass of the voice vibrated through the groan, it slowly cleared his mind out of his cloudy, sleepy haze. That voice, it was foreign and familiar at the same time, but there's a quality in the tenor of the voice that reminded him of something that he had been awfully well-acquainted with, something recent too. The familiarity was clinging so closely to his hindbrain, it felt as though the big mystery will be unraveled if he just focus harder on it. Then it did.

Images after images started bombarding him, his head swimming with clear visuals of him in compromising positions, and those visuals were as real as they get, especially when he recalled all the lewd, erotic sounds that came with them. All the moaning, the heavy breathing, the filthy words being whispered, the loose screams and the rustling sounds of the cover rubbing against trashing bodies. He felt a delicious swoop in the pit of his stomach even before he registered the sign of his cock stirring to life.

If it wasn't for the fact that he'd come to realize his surroundings as not of his own, he'd probably be annoyed by the distraction of the continuous groaning coming from the floor. He sat up on the bed, feeling a little disorientated as his gaze dropped to those fluffy pillows wedged at the bottom of his feet. He wondered at what point did he ended up at the bottom of the bed but then he shrugged, thinking that he must have passed out from exhaustion and he just didn't care which side of the bed he landed on after.

The cover was still comfortably wrapped around his body and his eyes automatically darted to the place where he sensed a slight motion. He looked over, eyes initially widened in shock but quickly morphed into mischief. His lips stretched thin into a cheeky smirk as he remembered the events he had participated quite willingly yesterday, with the man who was currently laying on the floor next to the bed, naked apart from a black boxer briefs he had on.

"Good morning, detective." Troye started and his voice seemingly still thick from sleep. "Hmmm, what in the world are you doing down there? Were you sleeping on the floor?"

Tyler didn't think to open his eyes when he answered. "I _didn't_ sleep on the floor."

"Okay." Troye said, rolling his eyes dramatically even though Tyler wasn't looking. "You know, I may not be the brightest bulb in the box, but I'm fairly certain that's the floor where you're lying on, and it's hard and cold, if I may add. I'd reckon sleeping on it wouldn't be the most comfortable thing in the world."

"Fuck off, I did _not_ sleep on the floor." Tyler insisted and Troye sensed a slight annoyance in his voice, but continued anyway.

"Well, if how we go at it yesterday was any indication, I didn't think you find me repulsive in the slightest, that you'd rather sleep on the floor than sharing this big, warm bed with me. Besides, it's not like it's the worst thing you'd do with me. As I recalled, we did much worse." Troye said with a snicker, feeling all the goosebumps rise as he thought about some of the things they both did to each other. They were pretty unforgettable.

"For the last time-" Tyler shot up and sat on the floor with his eyes fixed on the wrapped-up Troye on the bed. "I did not sleep on the floor. You, for the lack of a better word, _kicked_ me off the bed. And trust me, that is indeed a very soft and comfortable bed, I'll know because it's _my_ bed.

Troye squeezed a frown on his forehead as he listened. "What are you talking about, why would I wanna kick you off-" The words trailed off as he thought back on the incident before his mind short-circuited to his dirty thoughts.

"Oh.. OH! Uhm, well, I really don't wanna point fingers but, you grabbed at my foot and I was startled. I just did what a startled man does."

"What? Your foot- Oh for fuck's sake, I was just grabbing for my phone."

Upon hearing that, Troye wanted to laugh but held it in. "And so you grabbed my foot? Which part of my foot looked or sounded or even felt like an electronic device?" And the laugh that he reigned in just before escaped through his lips and he was cackling up just short of breathless. Tyler scowled and tried to counter Troye's mediocre sarcasm but his phone rang again, the shrilling sound of his ringtone echoed across the room for the second time.

Tyler reacted in an instant, quickly got up from where he sat and threw himself across the bed to reach his phone. The bed bounced from the impact and Troye watched, bemused, as the intriguing guy was now scrambling to unlock his phone with his shaky hands.

"Hello? Yeah, Marcus. Fuck, what time is it now? Okay, I'll be there. What? No, wait for me. Stall, Marcus! Give me thirty minutes. Forty tops." Tyler disconnected the call before he dropped his head on the pillow and let out a frustrated groan.

The sound sent a shiver down Troye's spine, making him shudder involuntarily and most significantly, it also went straight to his cock. He eyed Tyler with renewed interest, sweeping his eyes shamelessly across his flat chest, going downwards until he reached the sexy little boxer briefs. By the help of the shimmering sunlight peeking through the curtain, Troye could make out the elegant outline of Tyler's bulge, and he was fairly certain he could convince Tyler at another go before he had to do whatever he had to do from that call. _We only need ten minutes_. Troye thought confidently.

"So, detective.." Troye started as he untangled himself from the cover and crawled over to his unsuspecting target, sat himself directly onto that promising bulge and began rocking his hips in a circular motion.

"What do you think you're doing?" Tyler said a little alarmingly, unsure if it was directed towards Troye's behavior or towards what he feared how he would react. Having the very naked Troye mounted on top of him, grinding their lower bodies together and shooting him those sneaky looks, he'd think it's definitely the latter. He tried to keep from moaning, no other reason than simply not wanting to give Troye the satisfaction of knowing he could coax it out of him so easily. But despite all his efforts, he couldn't stop the low hissing from slipping pass his clenched teeth, and judging from the growing grin on Troye's face, Tyler knew he had heard it. _Smug bastard_.

"Oh, nothing. I'm just making sure you have a _very_ good morning." Troye said casually.

"S-stop it, I don't have time for this." He said in between hitched breaths. "Fuck, I need to go."

Troye continued grinding on the bulge and his fingers began playing with the taut, crimson-colored nipple, tugging and massaging them in a hurried manner but still pleasurable. "I guess I better get to work, then."

His smirked as he felt Tyler's cock twitched under him and he began tucking at Tyler's boxer briefs. Even though Tyler had, not in so many words, said no to Troye earlier on, he found himself arching his back and lifted his ass off the bed, all to help Troye get rid of the obstructing piece he called briefs. And this time, he couldn't stop his loud moan, not when his cock was suddenly in the grasp of Troye's hand. Troye was always quick to act. Tyler can confirm, mostly because he's rarely caught off guard by his previous sexual partners. Something about Troye that makes him absolutely pissed but at the same time, unfathomably mad with lust.

He couldn't tear his eyes away from the menace who was now straddling his mid-thigh, eyeing him with great desire to fuck him. He secretly hated losing his control and that Troye was the one who make him lose it so easily. But that was what he was doing, making Tyler lose control of his increasingly loud moans when he alternated the strokes on Tyler's cock, now slick with his own precum, between tugging and massaging it.

Then his eyes dropped to his own cock, seeing it growing harder and thicker in Troye's clever hand. His breathing got harsher when he thought about the surreality of his situation, questioning himself, at what point had he became so sex-crazed that he didn't, _couldn't_ stop any of these. _Yesterday, some time between the second and the fourth time you've cummed so hard that you can't feel your cock for a while and can hardly remember your own name._

Tyler almost whined at the lost of the warm hand on his cock. His conscience told him it would lessen his dignity significantly if he did that but being in the pool of pleasure provided by Troye's hand and suddenly be deprived of it, he'd say _fuck dignity_ and looked up at Troye, only, he'd already gotten off of him and retrieving the unused condoms from yesterday on the bedside table. Tearing one off the strip, resumed his cosy position on Tyler's thigh before helping him roll the rubber down his throbbing cock.

With that settled, Troye quickly balanced himself on his knees and hovered his ass over the sheathed cock. He almost sank down on it when suddenly he was stopped by Tyler's hand, clutching his wrist in a halt.

"What are you doing? You haven't prep yet." Tyler asked with slight concern.

"Mmmm, you've prepped me plenty yesterday, detective." Troye teased and to further demonstrate what he meant, Troye grabbed Tyler's hand and bring one finger over to his entrance and pushed in. Tyler's finger eased into the ringed muscle with little resistance, feeling it still slick and loose from yesterday. He can't help the groan that came, his chest inflated with what he's most certain was misplaced ego, that he'd fucked this beautiful creature so thoroughly.

Slipping his finger out, he redirected his hands to Troye's waist with a grip that spoke of desire and urgency. Tyler lifted Troye just high enough for Troye to align himself over the pulsing cock and then he bucked his hips upwards unintentionally. Once again, he couldn't control his urge and he regretted it when he heard Troye's teasing voice addressing him.

"Hmm, detective. Aren't you eager?"

"You're such an asshole, Sivan."

"Well, lucky for you, I'm the asshole that's gonna make you cum again. How many times was it now?"

"I changed my mind, you're an obnoxious bastard."

Troye chuckled and sank down after that, one swift movement and Tyler was balls' deep in the fevered slickness. They both groaned at the change of pressure where they were connected, feeling the delicious friction of skin rubbing against skin. Gathering his breaths, Troye started to move.

He started slow, moving up and down Tyler's shaft with a determination to make Tyler feel every inch of him. It was a torture for Tyler, of course, because despite what Troye had said about him being well prepped, he was still tight as fuck. The grip around his cock was so crushingly hot and when it clenched sporadically around it, be it intentionally or not, felt so amazing.

And it's mounting fast, Tyler felt every part of his body tensed up like a well-wounded spring and it is set to be released with an unthinkable force. He wanted it, the unimaginable pleasure that the hot swirling drawn from the depths of his balls promised to deliver. And with the provocative way Troye was riding him, he knew it will be so soon. He can almost feel it.

But one thought was keeping him from getting there. He hung on to it, no matter how flimsy _it_ is, and tried to find the strength to keep himself from achieving his ultimate high. As outrageous as the thought seemed, he refused to be the first to finish between the two of them. He wanted to see to it that he had satisfied this enticing little nymph before he crosses the finish line himself. Call it a show of dominance or simply just plain ego, but he wants to be the one who will make Troye forget that the world exist, forget that he needed to breathe and just make him cum so hard, he'd feel the thrumming bliss from now and all through to next Sunday.

He had to admit though, he was slowly losing this battle. It was incredibly difficult to keep his urge to thrust upwards into the warm vise in check, not when the picture in front of him looked like it was freshly plucked out of wet dreams. Face flushed beet red, eyes fluttering close and the long eyelashes formed half moons when rested on the rosy cheeks. A perfect picture of someone drowning in their own pleasure. And those plump lips were agape, huffing strangled moans and other lewd noises and Tyler wouldn't admit it to anyone, but those noises felt as though Troye had every intention of dragging his soul out through his cock.

"God, yes. You feel so incredible, detective. I'm close.. _so close_.." Troye breathed and increased his pace with a renewed strength, riding on the hard prick so expertly that every friction can be felt through all the nerve endings in their bodies.

" _Jesus_.." Tyler muttered as his grip on Troye's hip tightened and aided his upwards movement and let the gravity do the rest. He doesn't need it, not in the way a person was celibate for a long time and craved for a taste of the built-up release. He'd had plenty of orgasms the night before; mind blowing, earth shattering orgasms that he haven't had enough time to relish in them. No, he doesn't need it. He _wants_ it. He wants to feel the roaring satisfaction of teetering so close to the edge and still be able to hold back, and when finally he let himself fall over, he wants to feel the adrenaline, the raw excitement and pure bliss that courses through and lit up every fibre in his body.

And when he felt Troye's movement began to falter, breaking his rhythm a little, Tyler recognized it as the starting of Troye's impending high. As if he needed a confirmation, but Troye started to touch his own leaking cock, stroking furiously that his hand became a blur. They were obscene, the noises that tumbled out of Troye's mouth, so much so they coaxed the same noise, albeit in a lower octave from Tyler. 

To what seemed like forever to Tyler, he knew the exact moment Troye cums. In the midst of their tryst, he didn't even think to question when he had become so well acquainted with this fish and how he had known to read his body so well. He had felt the start of the muscles clenching around his cock even before he hears the unmistakable cries of release. Still riding his cock and hand movement not stopping, Troye began spilling his cum, roping it onto Tyler's taut stomach.

"Oh fuck, fu _ckfuckfuckfuck_.." Tyler felt the incredible pleasure wrecked through him when the clenching on his cock became too much and then he let himself cum, his vision turned white by the intensity of it.

A few minutes passed, or has it been a week, Tyler wasn't entirely sure but it felt longer than a few minutes for him to get down from his incredible orgasm. The heaving figure who was still mounted on his gradually softening prick was still dazed from his own release but slowly, he opened his eyes and stared directly into Tyler's.

" _That_ , must have been our record to date." Troye announced proudly.

"Really, don't. Braggy is not a good look on you."

"And snarky looked absolutely horrid on you."

"Well at least I have reason to be snarky about. I'm already late to meet with my partner when you threw yourself at me."

"I seemed to recall you weren't very reluctant when I threw myself at you just now." He grinned and Tyler wanted to wipe that sheepish grin off of that pretty face. So he bucked his hips upwards. Troye yelped in surprise, jolted by the conflicting sensation of soreness and tingling pleasure in his ass.

"Now, why don't you be a good boy and get off of me so I can take my shower and go to work?"

"Hmmmm, such a hard working man, you are. Just the type of quality I look for in my lover." Troye said sexily.

"Beat it. I'm not your lover."

Troye giggled playfully as he got off of Tyler, hissing at the lost of being full and dropped to the side of the bed.

Tyler got up from the bed and walked towards the bathroom, and he can't help feeling a little smug when he heard Troye make an appreciative noise, no doubt directed towards the back view he was showing Troye. Without looking back, he raised both his arms and stretched his body, and feeling utterly satisfied that his action had coaxed one last frustrated groan from him.

"You can use the bathroom outside. Since all your clothes are already there anyway." He said before he close the door and took the quickest shower in his life.

***

Troye was already freshly showered and seated in his living room when he walked out. Seeing him all covered up in his clothes from yesterday, Tyler had to proverbially shove down the disappointment that threatened to rise. And so he ignored it and gestured to Troye with a slight tilt of his head, and Troye stood up from the couch and followed him to the door.

"Well, I certainly hope this won't be the last time I'll be seeing you, detective."

"If you keep at your pick-pocketing habit, I'm pretty sure it won't be."

"Oh, _detective_.. In case you need a clearer picture-" Troye walked closer to Tyler, eyes never leaving his. "That isn't the kind of scenario that I'm referring to." He whispered alluringly against Tyler's lips before they kissed, their fronts plastered together. Troye snaked his hands into Tyler's back pocket and groped his cute ass one last time over the jeans before retrieving them and pulled back. Eyes glazed, he continued. "You know where to find me.."

Tyler was a little dazed but not dazed enough to let the chance of retort pass by. "Do I?"

Troye stopped in his step and turned his head sideways and with a smirk on his face. "Well, you're the detective, aren't you, _Detective Oakley?_ " And then he was off, leaving the slightly stunned Tyler standing in his living room.

Troye strode the hallway with a lightness in his steps, feeling pleased with himself of the outcome of his daring encounter with Tyler. For what it's worth, he knew there's a high chance that he won't be seeing him again, at least not for the sexy occasion that he was thirsting after. But he felt oddly content, gratified even, that he had experienced such a raw passion at least once with a sexual partner. So, he put the idea of seeing Tyler again to rest, at least for now.

As he reached the lobby, he chuckled to himself when he thought of how things were different yesterday, when he was desperately trying to get through the doorman to Tyler's apartment. And just as he passed the doorman, he swiftly picked up the cup of steaming coffee on the table, took a sip and handed it back to the doorman.

"It's a lovely day, Pedro. Take my word for it. It's a beautiful, lovely day!" He shouted over his shoulder as he exited the main entrance, leaving a rather dumbfounded doorman looking at his retreating figure, with a cup of coffee, a sip less, in his hand.

 


	2. two

When Tyler saw his partner leaning against the car, kicking loose pebbles under his shoe, and a face of impatience and displeasure, he jogged the last few steps towards him, which in his opinion, was every bit the grand scale of his effort to make up for his lateness. He carded his hand through the mess of his hair, hoping that it would somehow tame the stubborn strands that he didn't have time to blow-dry before he headed out of his apartment that morning.

He was sure that he looked as frantic as he felt, and if he had any doubt about it, there's always the mismatched socks and the crooked tie to squash those doubts away. Not that he regretted it, no. He couldn't bring himself to regret the most exciting night of his life, not even when it was shared with a street rat that he barely knew apart from the criminal records that he pulled out from the system yesterday.

In all honesty, he didn't know what to think of it, and what did it say about him enjoying it so much that he let it distract him from his usual work ethic. When he started joining he force, he had taken great length to practice the one and only rule that he set for himself; no matter what the circumstances, if he can help it, he'd always be punctual to his work. He takes his job very seriously because for him, every minute and every second counts when there are lives on the line.

So imagine his utter disgust when he was woken by Marcus's call (well, technically he woke up when he got kicked off his own bed), asking where the hell was he when he was expected to meet Marcus some time ago. And then one thing lead to another, or one can say, Troye happened and then, well, the rest was history.

"You're late."

"Wow, thank you for pointing out the obvious."

"Really? Keep your sarcasm to a minimum, Oakley. You're lucky your source was caught up with his business, and that he was here only 20 minutes ago. If you're any later, I'd bet every penny in Elizabeth's vault that he would have left and you would have had one less source for the case. You know how fickle Shane is."

"Yeah, I know. Sorry, I kinda overslept. Came as fast as I could." Tyler stopped short and felt his face burnt up a little at how his last sentence could be interpreted as a dirty innuendo. And accurate too. He mentally slapped himself, annoyed that his mind had to go there when he was supposed to have a razor sharp mind now. He cleared his throat before he continued as if he didn't just conjure a familiar naked body connected with his for a split second, and hope that his partner didn't sense anything askew. "So, shall we go and have a chat with Shane, then?"

And they both took off and headed into the abandoned warehouse, a secret location where they agreed to meet with their source that morning.

***

The meeting with Shane took a little longer than expected, but it was all good since the information that he gave was the best lead they've had so far. It's going to lead them to a location, a very well-hidden nest which they suspected to be the temporary lair of Sam Pepper whenever he was operating in New York. Shane had not so much as whispered his words that Sam was getting ready to carry on his next move, transporting a group of five young girls across the border within next month.

With this information, they could play it to their advantage, and hopefully for once, they could stay ahead of their target. Planning for their next course of action though, it may have some split opinions. On one hand, raiding the lair now would almost guarantee the capture of Sam Pepper, which was their objective from the very beginning, a big fish to fry. But then the bigger fish would be waiting it out, keeping a close eye on Sam Pepper and eventually leading them to their ultimate prize and bring down the most ruthless human trafficking syndicate in the history of America. Of course, every big plan isn't complete without a sensible amount of risk. By doing the latter, they may be risking the lives of those five young girls because one wrong move and they were taken across the border, they will go under the radar so fast and disappear from the face of the earth, and their efforts will all be in vain.

"So, what do you think?" Marcus asked. They were on their way back to the precinct and Tyler was riding shot gun in Marcus's cop car.

"I believed him. He may be fickle and sometimes outright annoying, but his tips are always solid."

"Hmm, okay. He's your CI. You know him better than I do. But I just thought that it's too easy. Nothing about this case was ever easy."

"I know, man. I know. That's why we're gonna talk to the boss man first, see if he gives us the go ahead."

"Old John's gonna make us work all nighters for this so you better get ready, because I reckon we won't be getting home before dawn tomorrow."

"Bring it on. Anything to bring that motherfucker down." He felt the anger started to bubble but then remembered to keep his calm. He's useless when he's pissed and also a waste of energy. "Besides, I'm not the one who has someone waiting at home. Can't imagine your girlfriend being happy about you spending most of your time with yours truly, alone, in the bullpen, all night." He said teasingly, make an effort to change the course of their conversation to something lighter.

"Oh, Oakley. You know I love you right? We've been through this. What we had, it was phenomenal and beautiful, but it's all in the past. It's time you move on from it."

"Never. You know you have a very special place in my heart and I'll always love you, Marky Butt-Butt."

Tyler said in a way an opera actor would, when confessing his dying love for someone who has broken his heart, overly dramatic and theatrical. And that has never failed to make both of them chuckle then laugh over their ever so silly antics. That have always been their dynamic from the very start of their partnership.

When Tyler first got the news of a new partner, and that his new partner will be none other than Marcus Butler, he was ecstatic, because Marcus is smart, fit and excellent at his job. Well, at least that's what he told himself. For all he knew, the reason for his excitement may have rested solely on the fact that Marcus is pleasant to the eye and has a rather cute ass.

Everyone at the precinct knew about Tyler's little crush on Marcus and for that alone, their partnership also made him a little worried. Worried of how comfortable for a man as straight as Marcus to be working alongside an openly gay man, of how he would react towards the widely known crush on him, of how much faith and trust he would put in Tyler to have his back and depend his life on him.

And thankfully, Marcus isn't at all what Tyler was afraid of. He doesn't fit the Neanderthal jock stereotype and to Tyler's utmost relief, he doesn't discriminate. On the contrary, he was disgustingly friendly with Tyler to a point where Tyler began questioning if Marcus is as heterosexual as he claimed to be. _Are you sure you're not into guys? Swing both ways, maybe?_ Was what Tyler asked, shamelessly one evening when they were out grabbing a pint after work. And the response was quick; his big hand grabbed Tyler by the nape of his neck, pulled him over and planted a swift kiss on Tyler's very surprised lips.

The kiss was slow, warm, lips against lips and all Tyler could taste was beer and the salts from the peanuts. After a few seconds, Marcus pulled back and confirmed that he is indeed very straight but he wouldn't mind a make out session or two with Tyler if he asks nicely. Tyler stared at Marcus for a short while, stunned, mind churning a mile an hour of what just happened and then grinned from ear to ear when he came out of it. His grin was reciprocated and then he felt Marcus's arm draped over his shoulder like it was the most natural thing to do in the world. Just like that, they have built a solid foundation of friendship that was transparent and genuine, over a kiss and a pint of beer.

"Wait, Oakley. Is that-" Marcus said suddenly, darting his eyes back and forth between Tyler and the road ahead of him.

"What?" Suddenly conscious about his appearance and began wiping his face with the sleeve of his jacket.

"Is _that_ a fucking hickey on your neck?"

"What? No!" He said a little too guiltily and started fidgeting in his seat, his hand quickly flew up to obstruct Marcus from any possible hickeys that may be visible. But, it was useless.

"Oh my god, Oakley. It is! It's peeking out of your shirt collar so obviously. How did I missed that earlier? Wait, are you blushing?"

"Shut it, Marcus. It's not a hickey. I just got a bad reaction from last night's dinner, that's all." Tyler said, weakly.

"You are such a liar! I know a hickey when I see one. And that-" Marcus poked at the bruised area near the edge of the shirt collar, and Tyler swatted his finger away. "-is definitely a fucking hickey. Damn Tyler. Did you get laid last night?"

"Marcus! That is none of your fucking business!"

"Oh, you sure did. Good for you, Tyler. It's time you get some. Come on, let's hear it. Where did you two meet? Is he cute? Oh, is he good in bed? Did you top? Or is he uhh- what did you say it was.. tinkle? No. Twinkies? Oh! Yes, a twink! Is he? I mean, I'm almost certain he is but from what I heard, you're quite versatile."

"Shut up, Marcus. I'm not gonna talk about this with you. Even more so during work time."

"Oh, come on, Tyler. You know you can talk to me about anything. And I mean, _anything_." He said while wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Nope. Drop it."

"Aw man, and here I thought we could start a gossip sesh and talk about boys."

Tyler felt a heated blush rising to his cheeks. "Why the hell did I ever put up with you?"

"Because I have a very special place in your heart and you love me, remember?" Marcus threw his words back at him with a pouty face before he started cackling up a storm. His laughter rang across the space within the car and shifted his focus back on the road. As for Tyler, after he rolled his eyes at Marcus, he too was looking out the window to put his mind back at ease and get his heart rate back to a normal pace, watching mindlessly at the passing buildings and counting the fire hydrants as they passed them.

"Oh my god, Tyler. You dirty bastard, you guys fucked again this morning, didn't you? No wonder you're late!" Marcus voice suddenly snapped him out his reverie and once again he felt his cheek heated up.

"Oh, fuck off." And Marcus laughed again until he was heaving and almost choked on his own saliva, and at the precise moment, Tyler sincerely wished that it would.

***

The time was almost four o'clock in the morning when Tyler finally made it back to his apartment. He plopped down on his couch, finger pinching the bridge of his nose in exhaustion and felt his the muscles on his neck ache when he tilted his head back on the headrest. Marcus had been right. After they had gone back to the precinct, they were instantly being called into Chief Green's office to debrief. It was not unexpected, not when Chief was under an insurmountable pressure from the mayor to solve this case by the soonest, that he had put them to work as soon as the word 'Sam Pepper' and 'lair' left their mouths.

So work they did, hours and hours of going through the mountains of all those missing girls' case files, sieving through every bit of them in search for any clues that they may have missed and only stoping for toilet breaks. They functioned solely on coffee the whole day and when Marcus have had his seventh, it would seemed like he have had enough of the crappy coffee in the precinct and dragged Tyler out for a breather and a quick bite. And even after that, they've received a call of a possible lead and they followed, only to stumble upon an underground gambling joint operated by one of Sam's men.

Tedious doesn't even began to describe their day. But it was all worth it. The city is one gambling joint down and Tyler couldn't be happier about that. Only, during when they raided the gambling joint he realised the repercussion of his reckless morning after with Troye.

It was such a rookie mistake and very much a negligence on his part. It was unbelievably sloppy, his behaviour, and he could have avoided it if only he have been more alert. He could have blamed Troye for all his seductions, how Troye had woken him up in the middle of the night, once with Troye's head between his legs and the wet tongue doing obscene things to his balls, and another time with Troye's hard cock poking at the side of his thigh, before he climbed on top of Troye, bent his legs over to the side and fucked him into the mattress.

There's no one else to blame but himself and his uncontrollable libido.

Because he clearly remembered he had placed them in their holder after he dressed that morning. He could still feel their weight on his waist when he walked out to his living room where Troye was waiting and he could still hear the sound of metals scraping against each other when he walked Troye to the door. But the holder on his waist now, it was empty. He chuckled to himself and the sound resonated through his dark and empty apartment.

That little street rat had fucking stolen his handcuffs.

He couldn't find it in him to be pissed about it. He just couldn't, not when all his thoughts about Troye revolves around ways he can pound into Troye's tight heat and listens to the way he pants when trying to catch his breath. That was just it, Troye had managed to defy all common sense and break into new territory without Tyler having a say in it.

And for a man with as much pride as Tyler has, he didn't in the least to expect Troye to be the one to knock him a peg down. After he'd overcame every dreadful thing that pre-puberty brought, he'd made a pack with himself, established a few rules and preferences about certain things and one being to never, ever jerk off to anybody who isn't either a pornstar or his boyfriend. But that night, even though he could almost passed out from exhaustion, he couldn't stop his hand from creeping down to his jeans, couldn't stop from palming his soft prick until it was filled and straining in his boxer briefs. And when he bucked his hips upwards into his own fist and shuddered when he reached his climax, his mind was filled with none other than the exceedingly enticing, Troye Sivan.

 


	3. three

"Where the fuck have you been, bruh? Do you know how long I have been on the street yesterday? It was fucking cold and I think my ass got frostbites from all the waiting. Some pieces of my flesh might have chipped off of my fantastic ass. Oh, my poor ass! But seriously, bruh, where have you been? I thought you got yourself into some trouble or you got caught or something. And then I got home and you weren't here. Then I thought maybe you got killed and I'm gonna hear about some skinny mangled body being dumped behind   some dirty back alley this morning. You understand that my heart can't take this kinda pressure, right?" 

That was the first thing that greeted Troye when he stepped into the loft on the lower east side where he had been rooming with Caspar. It was an old commercial space, previously rented and later modified into a office by someone who Troye presumed to be quite a minimalist architect. The loft was spacious, a little too large to be considered a comfortable residential place, a studio space with high ceilings and two rows of thick pillars that made the foundation of the whole building.

But what the loft lacked of; privacy of partitioned room and proper insulation, it was mostly make up by the most spectacular view Troye could ever asked for. The roof windows are overlooking the vastness of the lower east side, and every morning just a few moments before the sunlight started to push through the heavy darkness that the night was, there's just a sort of tranquility that never failed to start Troye out in a good mood.

That was one of the great many things Troye loved about the loft. The generous space it provides is somewhat a projection of Troye's persona; carefree and larger than life, not allowing thing as superficial as walls to restrict his wild mind to roam freely. Spontaneity would sum him up nicely, and so would witty, promiscuous, pliant but unwilling to commit, among other things that sounded rather like an insult, but for Troye it is as accurate as it gets. He does what he wants, when he wants and with whom he wants. Rules are just too overrated and he strives on the satisfaction of walking a little too closely to the edge and he would rather die than to have to dot all the i's and cross all the t's.

And also the fact that Caspar invited him to stay there free of charge, well, that would be at the top of the list of the reasons why he adored the loft so much, and no one could fault him for that.

Caspar, ever with the flair for dramatic greetings, had been laying like a broken mannequin on the too-small-couch with his head and his limbs hanging from both sides of the armrests when Troye walked in. His questions were thrown at Troye at such speed, coupled with how Caspar liked to mumble and string his words together, Troye surprised himself that he'd managed to catch all that. But in truth, Troye would have catch them even with a wall in between because the primary skill that one has to master if one was to be Caspar's best friend, is to be able to read between the mumbling, among other things.

"What are you talking about Casp? I'm the one who stood and freezed my ass out there last night, and you're lucky I didn't get any frostbites."

"No you weren't, if you were then I would have seen you. In case you're wondering, I'm not blind yet, bruh." Caspar countered and rolled his eyes at the end of his sentence, a gesture he thought could somewhat emphasise his point.

"Caspar, I was outside the boutique at nine and I waited for you for like 30 minutes before I bolted."

"That's not possible, I was there until ten, at least. I'm pretty sure because then I left to go get pizza at Emmanuels because they always sell two for the price of one after ten."

"Wait, you went to Emmanuel's? How the fuck did you get to Emmanuel's so fast? That was like, ten blocks away! Shit, Casp. What street were you on?"

"The 34th! Like you asked!"

"I said 24th, you fucktart! And here I thought only your pronunciation of words is shit, didn't think you had trouble hearing too."

"I could swear you told me to wait at the 34th." Caspar said a little softer this time, probably relishing in the fact that he messed up something as simple as street number. "But at least it wasn't all in vain, I got pizzas and let me tell you bruh, it was the bomb!"

"Yeah, for you maybe."

"Oh, come on, you could have come home to find me if you really needed the money."

"I thought you stood me up, and that you were probably with Taylor doing god-knows-what and I don't wanna walk in on you both. I've seen enough of her boobs to last me a lifetime, thankyouverymuch." Troye said in a teasing voice, his agitation was brief because he could never really be mad at Caspar. Besides, everything worked out pretty awesome for Troye too.

"So, where did you go after? Since you obviously weren't home last night. Seriously, the weather yesterday was no joke."

Troye didn't have to hear Caspar say it to know that. The first thing that he saw when he came home was the bed, it was more unkempt than it usually was, now with extra layers of mismatched linens and covers. And when the huge knitted fleece that they once got from a thrift shop for two dollars made its appearance, also the one that Caspar loathed because it's ugly as fuck and smells like cat urine, Troye knew it must have been insufferable.

"I was with a cop, a detective, if you will." Troye told him, his lips was upturned into a sly snicker but Caspar didn't seem to catch onto his meaning.

"WHAT? A cop? You really did get yourself into trouble and got caught? How the hell did I guessed that right? Man, my sixth sense must have been more well-developed than I thought it is."

Troye huffed in annoyance. "No, Caspar. I mean I was _with_ a cop. You know, doing the frickle-frackling, the horizontal tango, hiding the pickle?"

Caspar looked a bit lost so he continued. "Come on, Casp. Play nug-a-nug? Rumpy-rumpy? Ride below the crupper?"

"God, stop with the euphemisms, Troye. I know what _hiding the pickle_ means. Oh my god, I can't believe I just said that out loud. But _ride below the crupper_? Really, Troye?"

"What? It's a popular saying during the Renassaince period. I bet Leonardo Da Vinci coined it himself."

"Okay, that's so beside the point. My point is, what are you doing fucking a cop?"

"Oh, I didn't fuck him, he fu-"

"Not the point, Troye!"

Troye's grin grew bigger as he plopped down on top of Caspar's stomach, earning an 'ooff' from him. "Well, you may want to sharpen more on your sixth sense because you're half right. I tried to pick a purse yesterday and I was caught by this cute cop with a British accent and then he-"

"What? And then he brought you home and fucked you? Damn. Is that the new thing on the street now? You get away by serving your ass up to them cops now?" Caspar interrupted.

"I'm pretty sure that's illegal on so many levels. But no, that Brit cop was straight, or at least I think he is." Then Troye began telling him what happened during his brief time in the jail cell, up until his little rendezvous with Tyler at his apartment. Caspar cringed and covered his ears like a petulant child when Troye talked about the more explicit details of his night of romping. Troye was particularly detailed about it, something that Caspar suspected was intentional but as he was listening, albeit half-heartedly on some parts, he was already planning his revenge, making a mental note to himself to remember every tiny detail the next time he had sex with his girlfriend.

The way they seemed to be at each other's nerves all the time, it would have been catastrophic if it wasn't for the fact that they love each other as much as they bicker. Although they have met only during one coincidental afternoon when Troye came to New York, they developed an instant liking to each other and the liking had turned into trust fairly quickly. And ever since then, they have been a pair of unstoppable menace and that was one of a few things that Troye holds dearly on.

With Troye seated on the floor now, he was almost finished rehashing all the sordid details of that morning's quickie, and when he finally ran out of things to irritate Caspar some more, he went silent, quietly munching on a slice of leftover pizza. Caspar's face was all shades of red, just like how Troye expected and if Caspar is any bit as dramatic as his personality suggests, his ears would have bleed by now, with the amount of blood rushing to his head from being forced to listen to Troye's eventful encounter with the cop.

"So, let me get this straight, bruh. Instead of your ass getting frostbites, it got love bites now?" Caspar asked.

"Hmm, pretty much. Wanna see them?"

"NOOO!"

Troye laughed and Caspar regretted he ever asked.

But all of that happened a week ago but the memory is still as fresh as paint. Troye was sipping his morning cuppa on his couch while he looked out the slanted window, watching the white puffy clouds nestling atop the blue sky. The view was soothing and it beguiled him to drown in his own thoughts without him realising it. The bitterness of his coffee brought him back down to earth, childishly chiding the coffee for lacking the sweet, earthy taste of chocolatey goodness. Setting the cup down, he glanced down to his lap where a worn out sketch book was resting on.

His fingers traced the bold black lines that contoured and bent into the elegant shapes of a faceless man, and the feathery strokes underneath them creating their highlights and their shadows. Troye have been attempting to capture the soul of a cocky smirk, trying to picture how the lines blend together to form the nook of the upturned corner of lips, but the stubborn strokes never seemed to be good enough for what Troye envisioned. In his mind, the pair of chapped lips couldn't be more perfect and lively, with the almost nonexistent upper lip being overwhelmed by the plump lower lip, it created a smirk that spoke of arrogance but also a subtle hint of mischief. Looking down to his sketches, he thought that he could do so much better if the real life subject was here and he'd be able to study the lines closely and translate them onto paper. He sighed softly.

Mornings like these, Troye always find himself thinking back to the fateful day when he all but stumbled upon the owner of the lips that he'd been sketching. No matter how often and many times he had replayed the scenes of that night, he'd still find his mind wandering on its own, back to the start of it all when he first saw Tyler. This behaviour came a little unexpectedly, for Troye never had the habit of letting himself get attached to meaningless hookups. But his obsession of getting his sketch perfect, right down to the littlest of detail had been a firm discrepancy to his promiscuous ways.

He shrugged it off as a temporary infatuation, somewhat like a child being fascinated with a new toy. Speaking of, he shifted his gaze towards the almost empty shelves, with a small pot of succulent and a couple of books on oil paintings, only now there is an addition of a pair of handcuffs that he'd picked right under Tyler's nose, just before they parted ways that morning. He chuckled humourously, the breath that was exhaled formed a little fog in front of his mouth and dispersed into the thin air in the next second.

He wondered how long did it take for Tyler to realise its absence, or how did he react when he learn of what Troye had done or if he'd ever want it back. He then corrected himself, thinking that Tyler would have come searching for him and demanded it back if he'd wanted. Troye didn't know how he felt about that, for Tyler choosing to forgo one of his essential asset rather than to see him again to get it back, or simply call the cops on him. It would make him somehow feel a little bit more significant if Tyler did, and he immediately shove the pang of disappointment down. He shrugged again and stood up from the couch, grabbed his jacket and went out to roam the city with the purpose of clearing his mind, being overly crowded by someone whom he reckon will never see again.

***

Troye tilted his head to finish the last mouthful of cocktail, set the glass on the bar before fixing his gaze back at the pair of eyes across the dance floor. That same pair that had been locked with his and on him for almost the entire night. Maybe it was the cocktail, since it was his third of, not quite drunk yet but enough to make his body thrum with a gentle buzz. Or maybe it was the thumping bass vibrating through his vein, but he can almost feel the heat radiated from that pair of eyes, feeling his body turn hotter with each passing second as the pair of eyes sweep along the length of his body, unashamedly.

Throwing him a smirk, Troye took off from his stool and set himself to the dance floor. He danced without restriction, bobbing his head, rolling his hips, throwing his arms above his head and sway seductively to the music, feeling the vibe around him, drowning himself in the sea of people, body rubbing against body. Troye was well aware that the pair of eyes never left him, and he made it his mission to lure that stranger out to the dance floor, to join him and Troye ought to have some fun teasing him in the process.

As he turned and twisted his body some more, through the corner of his half-shut eyes, he chanced a quick peek at the direction of the stranger, only to see the lounge chair that the stranger had previously occupied was now vacant, and the whiskey glass he drank was set tidily on its coaster on the table. Troye frowned, his brows came together in the straight line, mostly due to the fact that he was certain the stranger finds him attractive enough to be ogling at him the whole time he was there, and that he'd come to Troye because he's really looking forward to let loose tonight.

With a huff, Troye resumed his swaying with renewed focus, feeling more determined to sweat it all out. With what his pent up energy over the week, he'd have to find another way to release them, for all he knew he'd be downing more alcohol into his system to dim it to be able to get some sleep tonight. Which doesn't sound too appealing, especially if it almost guarantee a hangover of the size of the Empire State Building. Low tolerance for alcohol would do that to him.

It was split second quick, one second he was dancing freely to the rapid thumping bass and then the next he felt someone came up behind him. The pair of hands were warm on his hips, the touch was gentle as to not startle him. Then, Troye felt warm breaths caressing behind his ear before he felt a firm body pressed to his back.

"Hello, beautiful."

The voice was deep and Troye felt the soft grazing of lips on his skin when the voice spoke, and Troye felt a tingle in his spine. He turned his head to the side to catch a glimpse of his new dance partner, pleased to see that it was the stranger from before. Troye smirked before closing his palms over the pair of hands on his hips, and tilting his head back to rest on the shoulder of the stranger.

They continued their dance, if one can categorise what they were doing as such, having their body plastered and grinding their lower bodies together, the stranger's groin to his ass, it was every bit the dry humping that most of the patrons there were doing. Then the stranger turned him around, Troye gasped softly as he took a closer look at the stranger's face, utterly impressed with the face that he was seeing. Strong jawline, high cheekbones and lips so plump, they can shine light to his own. In fact, apart from his brown eyes, the colour previously not visible from across the room, Troye would say that the stranger could be passed as his double without a hitch. Troye returned his attention to his stranger, his eyes slid pass his mouth which was now upturned into a sneaky grin and bore into the big brown eyes.

"I'm Jacob."

"Troye." He offered his name as Jacob did, but before he draped his arms over to the back of Jacob's neck.

"Haven't seen you around here. With the face like yours, I'd definitely remember seeing you before."

It's true that Troye haven't frequent The Monster for a while. It was one of his favourite gay club to visit whenever he was in the mood for hookups, and he was almost always successful every time he comes here. His intention for tonight was no different and judging by the lusty look Jacob was currently sporting, he'd say he won't be leaving the club alone tonight.

"Why, aren't you a sweet talker, Jacob." Troye teased.

"Can't help it. I'd had to sweet talk you first in fear that you'd be put off if I just go right ahead to tell you I've been looking at your ass all night."

Troye raised his eyebrows lightly. "That would have been a little straight forward, but I would have taken it as a compliment."

Jacob chuckled, confidence growing before he spoke again. "And I wonder what would you say it if I tell you, your ass looked extremely good when you were dancing all by yourself just now, and that I would very much like to have a taste of it?"

Troye inhaled as a shiver ran through his body. He took a second to compose himself before he leaned nearer to Jacob's ear.

"I would say let's get the fuck out of here so you can have it." He whispered and plant a kiss just below his ear and smirked to himself as he felt the grip on his hips tighten.

" _God_ , Troye. You're so fucking sexy."

Troye chuckled as he led Jacob out of the dance floor. Jacob excused himself to go freshen up in the bathroom and Troye told him he'd wait for him up front. And so, Troye pushed himself through the crowd, heading towards the exit and once outside, he took in the cool air to clear his mind of the remaining buzz from the cocktails. His blood was still running so hotly in his vein from all their teasing and grinding but boy he was really looking forward to see where the night would take him. But just as he was leaning against the wall outside the club, he sensed someone walking closer before he heard a familiar voice addressing him.

"On the contrary to what you've told me, Sivan, you're quite difficult to find."

 


	4. four

If Troye was a lead character in a movie and his life was pre-scripted by a writer with a rather peculiar sense of humor, this would be the exact moment where the scene be shown through his eyes and everything will start to move in slow motion until at one point, it became static. Then, the frame would freeze and he would be the only one with motion; widening his eyes in surprise, sweat prickling down the nape of his neck and the wheels in his brain turning at unimaginable speed, rendering him perplexed and inarticulate.

Alas, this was not a movie and time didn't stop. But he was perplexed and inarticulate, mostly caused by the surprise that was thrown upon him during he least expected it.

His stance was deceptively calm, but on the inside it was anything but. For he was suddenly as nervous as an innocent school boy being noticed for the first time by his long term crush. His heart which had previously slowed down, started hammering against his rib cage again. His brain was in a twist worse than the lemon zest garnished on those cocktails that he had, as his logic and his desire were having a feud that in Troye's opinion, was an unnecessary dispute that seem to go on and on and on.

Usually he wouldn't have any qualms at all for his mind to go wild with thoughts and bask in them. But it would be deemed more appropriate if he did that when time was on his side. And unfortunately for Troye, time wasn't, at least not right now.

From what Troye can assess of his situation, in whatever limited time that he had, he had two choices. One being to pursue the done deal of a hookup with an extremely cute guy, whom he reminded himself, would be coming out of the club at any second. This wouldn't be by any chance a bad choice, especially when the guy he'd scored looked like he'd just walked out of a billboard and a body that promised to have the stamina of a stallion. No, it wouldn't be a bad choice at all, not in the slightest and Troye wouldn't have contemplated for even a second if this was his other ordinary night out.

But he cursed it, his luck. Never in a million years he'd think he'd have the privilege to be wedged in between this kind of sweet dilemma.

He tried to think of a reason to rationalize his behavior, the reason behind the urge to keep the hookup a secret from the guy that he had been thinking for the entire week. He refused to use the term obsessed just because he wasn't, not because he was lying to himself or anything of the sort. Apart from that, he also tried to justify the weird reaction his body had towards the presence of this, now smugly snickering bastard but he came up short. Well, he'd had no trouble justifying how his cock jumped a little in this too tight pants but really, there's no passable explanation for how his heart seemed to flutter like the wings of a hummingbird at the sight of this man.

It'd be easier to blame them on those cocktails that he had, so he did.

And since his logic and desire has yet come to a compromise, he let his instinct to make the choice for him. And according to his instinct, desire won over logic. So, he pushed himself off the wall he was leaning on, strode towards the snickering bastard and can't help but felt a bit satisfied to watch the snicker fell from the smug face with each step he took. When he was near enough, he shot out his hand and clasped it around the strong wrist before they both went off to the other direction, away from the club. As Troye was dragging him, urging for them to go faster, he discreetly prayed that he'd not regret his final decision to go with his second choice.

And just as they turned the corner and got out of sight, a hopeful Jacob emerged from the club, only to have his hope crushed immediately when he looked around and noted that Troye was nowhere to be found.

***

The night was rather quiet apart from the sound that their shoes made when the soles scuffed against the pavement as they walk. They have been walking for more than five minutes, rounded a few corners, crossed a couple of streets, and Troye's hand on the wrist never loosen. He hadn't thought things through clearly when he opted to drag a full-grown man around the city and now his brain was working overtime to think of some place that they can go to. The fact that the man had allowed to be maneuvered around and not utter a single word since it happened didn't escape Troye's notice. And for some reason, that made Troye feel a little wobbly and warm on the inside. It was when they stopped at another junction, Troye's thought was interrupted.

"Sivan, where are you taking us?"

Troye ignored his question and began maneuvering him again as he thought of a perfect place that they can go. Another ping of warmth blossomed when Tyler didn't resist but he quickly shrugged it off.

"If you're gonna drag me around like a cow, the least you could do is tell me where we're going so I know I'm not going to be led to a slaughterhouse unknowingly."

"Come on, detective. I'm hungry. Buy me supper." Troye finally said.

Keeping his conversation light was more of a essential than a strategy, as he was struggling a little to catch his breath for having to walk around the city in such a hurried pace. But the short conversation served to provide Troye with more time to reassess his doings. Win-win.

Looking ahead, Troye smiled and his eyes brighten as he saw the neon lights blinking in the distance. Clutching Tyler's wrist tighter, he pulled and started walking faster towards the intended sign, suddenly wanting to shorten the time to reach it.

"There! Just right ahead!" Troye announced triumphantly as he lifted his free hand and pointed a finger in front of them. Tyler followed the where the finger was pointing at and saw the big colorful signage in the shape of a huge ice cream in a waffle cone. With a few more steps, they stopped at the entrance of the store and Troye released Tyler's wrist with a happy sigh.

"Ice cream? Really?"

"Yep." Troye said, grinning.

"Since when it's a proper etiquette to have ice cream for supper?"

Troye rolled his eyes before he spoke again. "Who says I'm proper?" And yanked the door open before he strode into the ice cream parlor.

"O-kay. Forget I asked." Tyler muttered under his breath but swiftly followed behind Troye with a curious attitude and he longed to uncover just how different Troye is from what he had concluded in his mind. So far, his deductions were too far off.

When he first saw Troye in the precinct, he didn't think anything would happen between them. But when Troye had annoyingly invited himself into the confine of his home, illegally, no one would have believed him if he told them that not only did he not throw the rat back on the street, he'd let him stayed with him after a night of sex marathon. How absurd is that? Quite, to be honest for Tyler isn't the kind to resort to one night stands with random criminals that came through the precinct. He usually would have much higher standard when engaging himself in string-less flings.

But then again, he wouldn't say Troye is any kind of ugly, just the opposite, actually. There is just something about that sweet face that draws Tyler in, which explained why Tyler couldn't keep his eyes off of him when they first met. No matter how many times he thought about that incident, he'd still feel the embarrassment that he'd let himself stare and be caught after. Talk about first impressions.

But even after they parted ways and went on with their lives, on day third, Tyler had given up any attempt to stop himself from thinking about Troye. Not that he was deliberate about it, but Troye just seemed to pop up in his mind at random times. It was more of an inconvenience rather than a bad thing, since he'd be needing all of his concentration and focus on the human trafficking case. So to have Troye's breathy moans and the image of his naked body writhing underneath his own suddenly assaulting his train of thoughts, he'd have to constantly fight down his impending arousal, and that was all too distracting for him to function properly.

There's just too many things about Troye that he didn't understand, and most of the things he found them incredibly absurd that they actually happened in real life. Like having ice cream when almost close to eleven at night during cold winter. It's not unheard of, but still can't deny it was one of the most absurd behavior to date.

Intrigued, curious, baffled, bewildered; just some of the words that would describe how he felt about Troye, and he had a feeling that the list will continue to grow.

His thought were broken when he felt a nudge at his elbow.

"I asked what flavor are you getting?" Troye said and he realized he'd been so into his own thoughts, he didn't realize that both Troye and the employee behind the counter were staring at him.

"Uhm.. Vanilla, please." Tyler told the employee and proceeded to pay for the both of them.

And so when the employee went about to scoop their ice creams, Tyler looked over to Troye and unexpectedly stunned by what he saw. The lighting in the store was much brighter than the dim street lights, and for the first time tonight, Tyler had a clear look on what Troye was wearing. A fairly normal black shirt with subtle abstract prints which in his opinion, was more of a blouse rather than a shirt because when the lights hit him from a certain angle, the material was sheer enough for him to see what's underneath. But what Tyler was really drawn to, more than he'd like to admit, was the ass-hugging, tight as second skin, black leather pants with metal studs and spikes placed along the length of the pants. It made his ass looked entirely too perky and legs that stretched on forever. His gulped to wet his suddenly dry throat and looked up to see Troye's smirking face.

"See something you like, detective?"

Instead of a retort, he blushed and let the comment slide because the employee was already done with their orders. When he saw what was placed in their tray, he quickly changed his mind about having ice cream in the middle of a cold winter night being the most absurd thing that happened. Tyler didn't even think it's possible but from where he was standing, he could see a bucket filled with multiple scoops of ice cream in the middle, waffles and squares of brownies wedged at the side around the ice creams, crushed Oreo cookies and peanuts and chocolate chips sprinkled all over and all of those were drenched in a generous amount of chocolate and caramel sauce. And the most absurd thing of all? The employee stuck a stick of sparkler in the middle of the bucket atop the mountain of ice cream and lighted it up like it's the Fourth of July. Now that bucket, that enormous, monstrous bucket of _things_ is the most absurd thing that happened.

"There you go, our special Sweet Tooth Explosion. Enjoy!" Said the employee in a cheery voice.

***

Watching Troye trying to battle it out with the huge bucket of sweet nothings has proven to be quite distracting. As he pick aimlessly at his single scoop of vanilla ice cream, he was helplessly drawn to the way Troye was attacking the bucket of Sweet Tooth Explosion. They were eating in silence and only have the silence broken at about thirty seconds interval when Troye moaned his satisfaction every time he had a scoop of different flavored ice cream in his mouth. Very distracting, indeed.

Tyler was equally appalled and amazed by Troye's ability to consume scoop after scoop of ice cream and munching on the waffles and brownies alternately and sometimes together, it made him wonder if there will be enough room for all those sugar to go into that thin frame. As fast as Troye go about attacking that impossible mountain of ice cream, they began to melt, and the swirls of different pastel colored water started to resemble a tantalizing pool of small Galaxy in the bucket.

"You know, I never thought you're a vanilla kind of guy." Troye pointed out, gaining back Tyler's attention.

"What's not to like about vanilla? The creaminess, the smoothness. It's classic." Tyler replied.

"But ugh, it's too bland, too boring. And I don't think you're as boring as your ice cream flavor." Troye said while picking up another big spoonful of ice cream and devoured it. Tyler followed the path of Troye's lips as his tongue darted out and licked the dripped ice cream from the corner of his mouth. The same tongue that were on more areas of his body than he can count. That was more than enough to send his blood rushing to his crotch. He shook his head.

"So, ice cream preference is reflective of my personality, is that it? Then that makes me awfully afraid of what your preference says about you." Tyler said while gesturing to the pile of melted mess in between them.

"Why yes." Troye grinned. "It's obvious I'm energetic and vibrant and fun person to have around."

"More like messy, chaotic and attention seeking. What, are you middle child or something?" Tyler said without missing a beat.

"Please try to limit your occupational habit to when you're at work, detective."

Troye retorted with a scowl and Tyler thought that was entirely too interesting. "Hostility. That means I'm right."

When Troye didn't argue further, Tyler felt as though he'd poked on a sore spot and for some reason, he didn't feel good about that.

"I'm the only child." Tyler quickly revealed. "Maybe that's the reason why I'm vanilla."

That had apparently been the right thing to say because Troye looked up with a cheeky grin on his face.

"Well, detective. Aren't you just waiting for someone to ruffle your feathers?" Troye said with a seductive smile before he scooped up another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth and hollowed his cheeks as he sucked on the plastic spoon deliberately. He smirked as he watched Tyler's gaze turned heated, his cerulean blue eyes morphed a few shades darker. For a short while, Troye thought he looked like he was going to jump across the table and attack him then and there. He was a little disappointed when Tyler didn't, but take comfort on the fact that Tyler's hands were clenched in tight fists, which proved that he was very much affected by Troye's little teasing.

Tyler cleared his throat and sipped a cup of plain water. "Orange creamsicles." Tyler blurted.

"What?"

"I sometimes like to have orange creamsicles. Especially when I'm hungover." He explained.

"You're a weird one, aren't you, detective?"

"When I'm drunk, yeah, I'll give you that. But don't judge it until you try it because it always cured my hangover when nothing else seemed to do it."

Troye chuckled lightly and picked up the last piece of brownies with his fingers and popped it into his mouth and sucked his thumb clean. "I'll try and remember that." And Tyler tried not to stare.

They chatted a little more, about their favorite drink, their pet peeves and all sorts of mundane things that either of them could live without knowing. Then Tyler revealed that he tracked down Caspar before he could Troye, and that Caspar had been a difficult little nuisance but harmless when Tyler asked about Troye's whereabouts. He had been impressed by Caspar's loyalty, certainly a quality that he'd admire in a person, when Caspar tried to swindle his way out of Tyler's inquisition for the fear of getting Troye into some sort of trouble. Tyler had to reassure Caspar multiple times that his intention was good and he just want to have a talk with Troye, and only then, Caspar had reluctantly told him some of the places that Troye would frequent.

"I'm curious, detective. Why _did_ you track me down?" Troye asked as they strolled down the now empty street. Cool breeze hitting him and he couldn't suppress the light shudder that ran through his body.

"I think you know why." Tyler answered.

"Why, I'm no mind reader, I don't think I know. And also, you cops are as cunning as serpent of the old Nile."

"The what now?"

"You- you don't know Shakespeare? Antony and Cleopatra?" Troye said dramatically, like he'd just been told that Donald Trump had become the new president of the United States. Tyler blinked once and looked at him like he had grown a second head. "My, my. You're awfully uncultured, detective. I don't think I can accept that in my lover."

Tyler shoved him lightly as retaliation. "Fuck off! I'll have you know that I'm immensely cultured on everything Lady Gaga. "

Troye noted that he wasn't reprimanded as he expected on the lover comment. He would have to remember to tease him about it some other time because, priorities. "Uh, excuse me. Please do not put those two on the same pedestal."

"Why not? They're famous, they are iconic in their own ways and not afraid to be who they are. I'd say they'd pretty much the same.

"As much as I would like to continue on this debate, I rather not do it when I'm freezing my ass off in this cold."

"No need for that. I'm just pointing out that Lady Gaga is more my scene." Tyler concluded and the realized that they've stopped walking for a while now. He looked around and recognized it as the lower east side before he flicked his attention back at Troye, who was standing in front of a building entrance and watching him with a grin on his face. He had been walking Troye home and not know it.

It was a little daunting to think that time passes by quickly when Troye's around. He is an interesting character, Tyler admit and he'd be ignorant if he didn't acknowledge just how much he enjoyed the honest bantering and harmless teasing between them.

When he decided to go all the way out to look for Troye, he hadn't had a clear vision on what he'd wanted to say or do when he finds him. He just knew that he had to find Troye. But that's just how it is with him, unpredictable and all too spontaneous, and always brings excitement to Tyler. Troye challenges him, goads him and thrills him with things that Tyler didn't even care to lay thoughts on. Just like how seeing Troye in this black shirt/blouse, it made him think about how Troye would look in women's clothes and that had shot an unexpected chain of sparks through him.

With two steps, Tyler shorten their distance and stood very closely to Troye's unbudging figure.

"Can I come up?" Tyler whispered against Troye's lips. Then he felt Troye's slender finger grazed the side of his neck, tracing a line from under his ear down to his pulse point.

"I don't make it a habit bringing cops home. You know, for the obvious reasons."

Tyler breathed one long breath and exhaled harshly as he felt the shivers shooting down his spine. "I'm off duty now. Let me come up."

Troye leaned in closer and their lips almost touching. His hand now rested flatly on Tyler's chest just above his rapidly thumping heart. "Hmm, I wouldn't want you to think I'm easy, detective."

"Nothing is ever easy with you, Sivan." And Tyler kissed him, long and hard. Troye groaned and tilted his head a little, fingers clutching onto Tyler's shirt as a wave of arousal flooded his senses. Tyler deepened their kiss and shoved Troye back against the door, an action that earned him a gasp from Troye and Tyler took that chance to thrust his own tongue into Troye's parted lips. It felt like coming home, which was silly of course, for Tyler had only kissed him a bunch of times. But he almost sighed in relief at the familiarity of having those plump lips pressing against his.

Troye started rutting against his body and Tyler almost lose it when he heard another string of moans that calls out the hunger in him. He ran his hands along the length of Troye's body urgently, starting from his back and sliding to his sides and continued downwards. When his hands reached pass Troye's slim waist, Tyler moved his hands back to massage the leather-clad ass before he move one hand to the equally slim thigh, and hitched it up around his waist before Tyler pressed their groins together.

"Do you know what you do to me, Sivan, seeing you waving your ass around in that offensive pants, all night?" Tyler bucked his hips against Troye and Troye moaned involuntarily. "Can you feel it? Can you feel how hard you've made me?"

Troye backed away from the kiss as he groaned uninhibitedly and hooked his leg around Tyler's waist tighter, desperately wanting to increase the friction that their lower bodies were creating. Tyler moved over to Troye's neck, fastening his lips on that beautifully stretched neck and alternately sucking and nibbling on the pale, soft skin.

" _Mmm, detective.._ " Troye moaned.

"Please, let me come up."

Troye bore his eyes into Tyler's darkening ones, mouth agape and trying to force the cool air down his windpipe. A few hurried breaths later, Troye yanked the front of Tyler's shirt and pulled him cross the threshold of the building on the way into his loft.


	5. five

The sound of harsh breathing expelling hot air mingled with the weak whimperings filled the stagnant air as bodies rubbing against one another, grinding fiercely and one trapping the other slimmer one against cool metal. Unbridled hands were touching each other, groping frenziedly at any areas they could reach. Fingers curled on the smooth material covering the wide spread of the muscled back, clawing a ragged line down the path to the equally muscled behind; squeezing, massaging, groping and bucking, all with the purpose to eliminate any space in between them.

They paused their sloppy kiss, rested their foreheads together as they breathed heavily to replace the breaths that they lost, before diving in again with renewed urgency. Mouths slammed together, teeth knocking against teeth, tongues dueling and fighting for dominance. Both drowning in the abyss of pleasure so great, that they failed to register the roaring sound of the moving metal coming to a stop, followed by a soft _ding_.

Troye kept touching Tyler abundantly, edging his hands closer to the hem of his shirt before he snaked under it to touch the hot skin. His fingers pressed into the skin, making shallow dents and clawed their way downwards before he slid them into Tyler's pant, teasing the groove in between Tyler's cheeks before grabbing handfuls of his perky ass. The sound that Tyler made was in between a purr and a growl, the vibration passed on through their connected points and went directly to Troye's hardening cock. A wave of staggering lust swept through him which made him bite down on Tyler's bottom lip before lapping his tongue across the light indent of his teeth mark to sooth it again. In the middle of such thick haze of pheromones, neither of them heard the sound of someone clearing their throat. It was when a sharp clang of something hitting on metal that finally pulled them back from their cloud of carnal bliss.

"You two ought to be ashamed of yourself! Wrestling tongues and molesting each other in a public elevator!"

They were both startled by the high-pitched voice and Tyler pushed away from Troye and shot himself to the furthest corner of the confined space, repelled as if they are the same pole of a magnet. Huffing and threading his hand through his hair, he gave a light cough to cover up the awkwardness and embarrassment that he was currently feeling. It's not a common occurrence that he's caught during heavy make outs in an elevator.

"Such vile behavior to be displayed out in the open like that! Didn't anybody teach you any common decency?" The voice scolded again.

"Good evening, Mrs Alperstein. Fancy meeting you here at such hour. Taking little Doug out for a walk?" Tyler heard Troye addressed their displeased company, an old lady who was standing just outside of the elevator, with her cane blocking the door from shutting and the cutest little pug tugged in her embrace. Troye reached out his hand to try and pet the little pug on its head but was quickly reprimanded by her.

"What do you think you're doing, young man? Don't think I haven't seen where that hand have been just moments ago." She scowled at Troye in distaste as she strutted into the elevator with her head held high. She pressed the button to her floor using her cane with great precision and lower it down to the elevator floor with a light thud. Tyler was undeniably impressed by the agility of this frail-looking woman, he was slightly afraid of the aura that she was radiating. She reminded him of his high school discipline teacher who made him almost wet his pants every time she so much as glanced at him. She let out an audible huff before her soft but stern voice filled the air again.

"I'd never understand the utterly ridiculous behavior of youth these days. Deemed it appropriate to put their fun bags and their one-eyed lizard with saggy chin out there where everyone can see. What has the world turn into?"

Tyler had never wanted the elevator to move faster just so he doesn't have to be stuck in there with Mrs Alperstein any longer than he has to. Two reasons, one being the utmost embarrassment that he wished the earth would open up and swallow him whole. Second reason being the urge to just release the roaring laughter that threaten to spill upon hearing the words that came out of this, what he assumed to be almost seventy years old lady.

His face redden by the amount of energy exerted to not laugh out loud and to keep his expression neutral. He had a feeling that he'd rather not annoy her further or they'll have hell to pay. He looked over at Troye, seeing that he was also suppressing a grin as he gestured to Mrs Alperstein standing in between them. Tyler shifted his weight from one leg to the other, trying to ease the slight uncomfort in his pants.

"Well, Mrs A. You used to be young once, I'm sure you'd understand the carnal urge in their rawest form. Don't you remember how your blood runs so hotly in your body, you just wanna do unthinkable things to your man?"

"I most certainly would not! I'll have you know that I have impeccable self respect and self restraint when I was your age. Men were flocking all over to me and I didn't even bat an eye. Youths are not to be wasted with meaningless booty calls."

"Mrs A! I'm mighty impressed that you know the term 'booty call'."

"Excuse me, young man. I'm not as old as I look. I'm still perfectly capable of knowing the slang of the youngsters. Being disciplined in my youth doesn't make me a crude old hag now."

"Well, if you'd like, my youth is yours. Let me fulfill your most filthy fantasy that you've never had a chance to participate in. I'm sure my man and I can reenact them flawlessly." He winked at Tyler and instantly saw Tyler's face flushed scarlet.

"How dare you try to imply-"

"What he was trying to say is that, you're right, ma'am. We should keep our private life, private. I apologize for our inexcusable behavior on behalf of both of us. It was entirely inappropriate of us." Tyler intercepted her before she imploded. "Oh, such a cute little pug. Doug, right?"

Mrs Alperstein sneered a look at Tyler before returning her attention to the closed elevator door in front of her. "Well, at least this one has proper manners to make up for the lack of self control. That's more than I could say for you, young man." She directed her last poisonous words towards Troye.

Just then, the elevator stopped on the seventh floor, just a floor below the loft and Mrs Alperstein strutted out when the door opened. She stopped and turned to face them, her face a picture of annoyance. "I'd expect you two to have a better grasp on respect now and I don't want to hear any noises that would disturb my sleep throughout the night." She'd managed to blurt it all out just before she disappeared behind the shutting elevator door.

The elevator hummed to life once again and as their eyes met, they both burst into a cackling mess, laughing at the ludicrous moment that they had with little ol' Mrs Alperstein.

***

The loft was everything Tyler had imagined it would be and more, from however short a time he had known Troye. The place screamed Troye; laid-back, unattached and the stretch of the tall window looking out the city that never sleeps was absolutely stunning. Tyler had chose to ignore the fact that he had just associated the word 'stunning' with this annoying little shmuck whom he'd very much like to just fuck and forget everything else exists. If he'd let himself continue his thought down that path, he's afraid that he'd start to see Troye differently. So, he stopped.

"How in the world have you managed to get a place with a view like this?" That have been the best way to distract himself from wandering to uncharted territory as well as uncovering the mystery of a street rat in a loft.

"Caspar." He heard Troye say nonchalantly, like his answer was supposed to make all the sense.

"How in the world did _he_ managed to get a place with a view like this? Did you two conned someone into letting you stay here?"

Troye chuckled. "That's a bit judgemental, don't you think, detective?"

"Only if the shoe fits." Tyler retorted in fun.

"He's got a loaded girlfriend. This building belonged to her family."

"So, you guys did conned someone to letting you stay here."

"Well, I'd be happy to comply if you're set on a wasting more time in dwelling about how we've come about the loft but I could think of better ways to spend those said time." Troye said as he strolled passed Tyler, deeper into the loft. Tyler watched as the tightly wrapped ass swayed from side to side.

"Really? Do tell."

Troye stopped in front of a couch and turned on his heels, his hands spread wide like he was about to take a bow. "Would you like a long tour of the loft, or a short one?

That question was definitely something he hadn't anticipated and it kind of thrown him off a little. "There's a difference?"

Troye smirked as he retreated back and sat on the armrest of the couch. "Why, yes. You see, the long tour requires the introduction of the whole floor whereas the short one, I'll just show you the way to the bed."

The words that Troye said was not by any chance dirty but they did have the same effect to his body that suggested they were. It was instant, the warm tingling of arousal that was previously halted came rushing back with a vengeance, fiery and flowing in his vein, so hot and lit up every nerve as it went. Suddenly, even though there's only a couple of feet between them, the distance seemed to be too much for Tyler.

Troye watched as Tyler's stance became predatory once again, and his breath hitched at the sight of it. Troye dug his fingers onto the armrest as Tyler sauntered closer to him, eyes never leaving him. When he finally stood in front of Troye, so close that Tyler's legs brushed against his bent knees, he saw that the blue in Tyler's eyes were almost all covered up with black.

"I'd have the short tour, please. But I don't think I'll make it to the bed." Tyler's voice had dropped a tenor, and the sound sent a delicious shudder to Troye's body. Then, Tyler crouched forward and fasten his mouth onto the elegant line of Troye's stretched neck. He swirled his tongue on the thin skin, feeling the rapid beat that resonated from Troye's thumping heart.

"Jumping straight to the main event, detective?" Troye said as he tilted his head to the side, allowing Tyler to feast on his neck with less hindrance. Releasing his grasp on the armrest, he shifted one to cup the back of Tyler's jeans, another palming Tyler's hard bulge.

"I think one week was enough foreplay." Tyler said in a seductive growl.

With one firm push, Troye fell back onto the couch, his head landed on the soft cushion, back arched so elegantly and his ass rested high on the armrest while his legs dangled loosely at the side of the couch. Tyler knelt down in front of Troye's opened leg and nuzzled his nose against Troye's crotch.

"I tried to resist. Tried to keep you out of my mind so badly." Tyler said lowly against the eminent bulge and pressed opened mouth kisses on it as his hands ran a path along his thighs and curled around his knees.

"Tried to bury myself with endless work, tried to occupy my brain with things that doesn't involve you. Hell, I even tried to burn away all my pent up energy in soul cycling but fuck I still want it all. Still want _you_." His hands moved back up and gripped tightly on Troye's hips, his mouth left the bulge and that had wrenched an undeniably needy whine from Troye.

"Who gave you the fucking right to go around parading that ass in that fucking tight pants?" He fumbled with the button to get bit undone and slid the zipper down in one swift move. Tyler growled possessively when he saw that Troye wore nothing underneath those provocative leather pants.

" _Christ_ , Sivan. Are you a devil in disguise, trying to drag me to the pits of hell for all the things I wanna do to you? Such a filthy boy, walking around the city all night with only this leather pants and nothing underneath it." And Tyler grabbed the opened waist band before yanking Troye's leather pants down to his knees.

"Have you seen how the pants hugged my ass? Do you think it had any room for any underpants? Unless I wore a g-string." Troye managed, in between breaths.

The growl that was pulled from Tyler was inhuman. It's true because the level of heat in his blood rushing towards his steel prick says nothing of human trait. It made Tyler heedy and heaving, so much so he had to force himself to calm his raging hormones and focus on the task at hands, literally.

Even though the loft was lit only by the dim light of the moon, Tyler could see the tapered head of Troye's cock glistening, precum pearled elegantly at the slit. " _God_ , you are a fucking walking wet dream. Everything about you just makes me absolutely crazy. Do you know how many times I thought of you when I jerked myself raw?"

A weak whimpering escaped Troye's mouth when Tyler flattened his tongue at the base of his harden cock and dragged it upwards until just below the widen head. Then he dragged it back down and swiped it across Troye's balls, and Troye mewled. He repeated the upward motion again, the tip of his tongue teasing the ridge just under his sensitive head and Troye bucked his hips upwards in response.

"Ughhhh.. Detective, please don't tease." Troye whined, his voice pleading but Tyler yearned to hear more. More pleading, more sobbing, more wantonly.

Tyler pulled back and yanked the pants all the way off, his hands shifted to grab Troye by the ankles and bent him upwards just so his thighs were resting against his own chest, and at the same time, revealing the hidden gem Tyler had been thinking about all damn week.

Needless to be convinced, Tyler dove in and gave the left cheek a playful nip and sucked the tender skin near the cleft of Troye's ass before moving to the other side and repeated the same. This feeling of wanting to mark every inch of Troye clawed its way out from the very depths of Tyler's instinctive mind, craving to be let free like a wild beast after it had been caged unwillingly. The intensity was everything to be afraid of, for it was nothing Tyler had ever experienced before. But in this state, Tyler was all but gave any flying fuck about where the intensity came from, not when he was staring at the beautiful gem, pinkish ringed muscles, wet and glistening from his saliva, tempting him, inviting him to do whatever he wanted.

Oh, how he wanted. Never a day that went by during the passed week had he wanted anything like he had wanted this. For him to see this again, for him to make this obnoxious little twink a blabbering mess, for him to take and take and take until there's nothing left.

"Are you gonna fuck me at some point or are you happy just staring at my ass, detective?" The obnoxious little twink asked accusingly but Tyler wasn't fooled. He could hear the slight breathlessness in his voice but above all, the voice was laced abundantly with arousal, thick and heavy. The slight trembling of his body told Tyler just as much, and he'd planned to make Troye tremble even more violently after he is done with him.

And so he dove in again and licked a wet path starting from the bottom, moving towards the inviting hole and made small circles on and around Troye's entrance with the tip of his tongue. Highly encouraged by the lewd noises that Troye made, he then tried to breach the tight ring, licking and wetting it further before he pushed the tip of his tongue passed it. The sound that escaped Troye was exponentially louder than before and the tight grip on Tyler's hair was all the sign that he needed.

Tyler indulged deeper into the sinful chalice; prodding and teasing it so expertly that the melody of choked breaths and cries of pleasure filled the air, singing his praises. His hands were on Troye's thigh, locking them in place as Troye trashed uncontrollably on the couch.

"Oh God.. Yes, _yess.. fuck!_ "

Maneuvering his kneeling position to get a stronger hold on the floor, he released one of Troye's thigh and shot forward to grab Troye's beautiful cock, feeling it hot and fully hardened in his grasp. He sat back onto his heels to look at his work, utterly satisfied as he saw the ringed muscles all wet and loose while his hand started a slow rhythm of stroking the neglected cock.

Tyler would have no doubt at all, judging by how much he'd worked Troye up, that Troye would be able to cum with a few purposeful strokes on his cock. But that's not what he had in mind. When it happens, he'd wanted Troye to cum with his hand on Troye's cock and his mouth in Troye's ass. He'd wanted to feel how Troye's body trashes and writhes under his ministration, and how his inner muscles contract when he reach his ultimate high. So, Tyler delved his tongue back into the loosen entrance and teased it some more while his hand gained some speed and stroked the hot cock in sync with his mouth.

"Fuck! Fuuuckk! Detective, I'm- I'm--a _aaahhh!_ "

The choked sobs sounded nectarine sweet to Tyler's ears and he knew that was the end of Troye's control, that he was finally there, at the highest point of an erotic roller coaster before the big plunge into the pool of wondrous bliss. He could feel Troye's body jerking and convulsing on the couch, the inner muscles squeezing his tongue and the cock in his hand jumped and contracted, pushing the white cum through the cock slit and splattered across Troye's flat stomach.

He kept the strokes on the softening cock at a leisure pace, making sure that Troye ride out every last bit of his blissful orgasm. Tyler looked up at Troye, watched as Troye relaxed his previously tightly shut eyes and basking in the aftermath of his orgasm. Perfection. He thought before he could stop himself, watching the image displayed in front of him, face so flushed, eyes shut so dreamily and sweat coated his forehead and down his neck. It was a picture of someone who had just been properly rimmed and Tyler's chest inflated.

"You.. are frighteningly too good at that, detective." Troye said after a he could catch his breath again.

"You say that like it's a bad thing." Tyler faked a scowl.

"Of course not. It's not everyday that I get to cum so hard by getting my ass eaten and a handjob. Only now I feel like I need to step up my game, you know? Be more creative and shit."

Tyler chuckled and stood up, hand gripped on the headrest as his legs wobbled a little from being on his knees for some time. Sensing the movement, Troye opened his eyes abruptly as if he remembered something, and his focus went straight to Tyler's still-very-prominent-bulge.

"Need a hand with that?" Troye said while jutting his chin towards Tyler's crotch and heard a loud chuckle from Tyler.

"Oh, but I'm not done with you yet." He offered his hand to help Troye up from the couch.

Troye palmed his hands against the bulge in question and massaged the length of his fully aroused cock over the pants. "Hmmmm, detective. Such an animal. Though, I quite like the idea of you fucking me like an animal against this couch."

Tyler growled and hoped that the sound conveyed his impatience. "You're terrible at house touring, Sivan."

Troye chuckled at the small joke and in return he grinned cheekily at Tyler. "Well, don't you worry, big daddy. I'll make sure you are well acquainted with the loft. Every inch and every corner of it."

"Has anyone ever accused you of being prudish or easily satiated?"

"I do have unquenchable thirst when it came to the matter of asses. I'm pretty sure you share the same sentiment." Troye winked and Tyler let out a loud laugh.

"Shall we start the loft tour, then?" Tyler asked and Troye instantly felt a delicious swoop in his stomach by the smouldering look Tyler was giving him.

"Yes, we shall. Although, do you think we'll make it to bed before Mrs A came knocking on my door?"

Tyler couldn't stop the grin on his face as he crouched forward and grabbed the slim waist to hoist him up. Just as he have the legs wrapped tightly around his waist, he walked them deeper into the loft and kiss the annoying but undeniably insatiable twink.


	6. six

In the norm of a hookup situation, the morning afters can sometimes be painfully awkward. The initial shock of another's warm body on one's bed, followed by the realization of what happened the night before, the struggle to remember the name of one's hookup, not knowing if they should meet again or offer a fake contact number out of sheer pity and politeness before one runs out the door.

But it was safe to say that Tyler was having none of those cringey moments when he pried his eyes half open and saw a bird nest of dark, curly hairs, properly tousled and laying against his chest. Sure, he had been confused for three seconds before the realisation hit him like gentle waves breaking on the beach; smooth and all at once.

He had done it again. Have wildly passionate and unorthodox sex with this incredibly tempting twink that he can't seemed to get enough of. He felt like a different person, almost like he was possessed by another unseen entity when he was having his way with Troye. Such strong pull that Troye has on him, such incredible urge to make Troye loses his mind and in the meantime, loses his own. Tyler didn't want to acknowledge the cause of any of his possessive trait and should he gain anything from their copulation, is that by the end of it, he's left spent and satiated and incredibly satisfied with the puddly state that he put Troye in.

Now that it was the morning and he wasn't in the midst of the suffocating carnal haze, he looked around the loft for the first time, taking in the surroundings properly and as best as he could without the help of his glasses. He chuckled to himself when he thought of how he had implied that the loft was a result of a con. In truth, he only said it as a joke and he had come close to regretting it when the joke came out sounding more like accusing rather than a tease, but quickly covered up when Troye didn't seemed offended by it.

Nudging lightly at the sleeping form on his chest, it didn't seemed to rouse Troye from his sleep, but in return made him swing his arm over onto Tyler's stomach and nuzzled even closer into his side. As much as he'd enjoy cuddling after a night of romping, he couldn't deny the pressure on his lower body that in need of some release or else he'd be accused of urinary incontinence. Now, _that_ would definitely be a painfully awkward hookup morning after.

And so, he lifted the arm draped across his stomach and dropped it onto the side as gently as possible before he slid his own arm out, numb from being under Troye's head for God-knows how long, and searched for his glasses somewhere on one of the small wooden blocks that the loft seemed to be littered with. When he bumped his calves into a third one during the span of last night, he'd annoyingly asked Troye the reason for having so many of them in the loft. And to that Troye didn't supply an explanation but shoved him onto the bed instead to suck his cock until he cummed in Troye's mouth. The subject was not being brought up again, seeing that Tyler was much too distracted by the image of Troye lapping at his softening cock, swallowing all of his cum. When Troye released his cock with a soft pop, Tyler's eyes were immediately cut off to the pink tongue that darted out to catch some of the cum on his cock that Troye had missed and licked them clean.

Taking another look down the bed, he had to hold in a chuckle as he saw that Troye had shifted onto his back with his head turned to the side, his hand rested on his chest and his fingers curled slightly on his shoulder. _Why did he have to look like a dainty princess when he's sleeping?_ Tyler would have to remember to taunt him about it later. But then again, he didn't think Troye would take the bait. He's literally shameless. What's teasing him about how feminine he looked while he's asleep going to do? But really, the thing that he should really be concerned about was the fact that the image of a feminine looking Troye was once again stirring up some feelings that very much resembled arousal. Tyler shook his head, more on how much it excites him with thoughts of a ladylike Troye than the fact that he will never find something to tease Troye about that would make him blush. Before he could evaluate his rather out-of-the-blue bedroom kinks, he quickly made a beeline to the bathroom to relieve himself of the tight pressure that was his bladder.

***

When he exited the bathroom, he'd decided to explore the loft a little by himself, quietly of course, since the dainty princess was still deep in his slumber. Fixing himself a cup of coffee was top priority, so he ventured into the small kitchen area, if one can even consider that a kitchen. Tyler have no words to describe the area that seemed like a kitchen but very much lacked the utensils that a simple kitchen should have. With only an small oven with cooktop, an electric kettle and a couple of mugs, that was about all there was to it, as far as this kitchen went. Tyler was beginning to wonder if he can find coffee. He was starting to feel a little jittery after searching through the cabinets and came up empty handed. Caffeine withdrawal was kicking in and he almost punched the air in victory when he finally uncovered two sachets of instant coffee under a stack of unused coasters in one of the drawers. He filled the kettle with tap water before plugging it on and grinned stupidly in the kitchen while he waited for the water to boil.

Waiting for the steaming cup of instant coffee to cool, he looked around some more and his gaze darted from one area to another, pleasantly surprised to see the things that Tyler didn't quit expect of Troye. He made it a habit of cataloging his surrounding pretty fast, and with each item that he saw in the loft, it got him more intrigued. Like the chips of wood from an unfinished head sculpture littering the floor on the far corner, a couple of worn out sketch books laying on the coffee table and a bowl of broken charcoals sitting atop the sketchbooks. _So he's a street rat and a struggling artist wanting to make it big in big apple._ He mused. Then, his eyes caught the stack of wooden frames being clustered just beside of a tall stool, and next to it, an easel holding a framed canvas, which was covered by a white cloth that kept what's underneath away from public eyes. Curiosity piqued, he sauntered nearer to the covered canvas and try to take a small peek but whatever curiosity that sprouted was quickly stomped upon when a loud shriek came from the front door.

"AAAHHHHH! My eyes, my _eyes!_ "

Tyler turned around to see Caspar hysterically covering his eyes with his hand. He realised belatedly that he was still stark naked and he had flashed his naked ass at Caspar and now his- dammit! While chiding himself for the lack of self awareness, especially in a place not his own, he scrambled to look for something to cover himself up, an action with the purpose to salvage whatever bit of dignity left in him.

"No, no, no! Not my Yankee's hat!" Caspar half screamed, half whined at Tyler when Tyler grabbed a hold of the first thing he could reach and used it to hide his private parts from unwanted eyes.

"God, _Caspaaaaar!_ What's going on? What's all that noise?" Troye whined, finally awake. So, Caspar was the prince he was waiting for to rouse him, apparently.

"What's going on, is that there's a naked cop in our loft and he just used my lucky hat to cover up his golden ball bag of family jewels! How the fuck am I gonna wear that on my head without thinking where it had been? Oh, for the love of all pepperonis, put a sock on the door knob next time when you decide to bring this- this _hat contaminator_ over to hide pickles with! Oh shit, now I can't think of pepperoni and pickles without ever imagining your- fuck! I think I've ruined pizza for me. There, are you happy now? Hat, ruined! Pizza, ruined!" Caspar threw his hands up in defeat before he turned on his heels and went out where he came in just moments before, leaving the dumbfounded Tyler and the equally dumbfounded Troye alone in the loft again.

Troye sat up on the bed and rubbed his eyes lazily before turning to look at Tyler, much amused to see Tyler flushed scarlet from head to toe. Tyler in turn grinned at him a little sheepishly and offered up the hand that was holding the mug. "Good morning. Coffee?"

"Ugh, is that from the left drawer?" Tyler nodded and took a sip. "Ugh, no thanks. How could you drink that shit? It tastes like cat urine."

Tyler almost spewed the coffee, and instead spat the remaining liquid back in the mug with disgust written all over his face.

"Then why do you have this? In fact, it's the only thing I could find." Tyler said as he lowered down the mug and the hat onto the kitchen before heading to the sink, catching some tap water to rinse off the foul taste in his mouth.

"Well, I usually get my coffee from downstairs. Hold on." Troye suddenly jumped from the bed and pulled the white linen off of the bed to make a makeshift toga around his waist and headed to the direction of the door. Seeing Troye somewhat making an effort to cover himself up, he went to do the same as a courtesy but secretly he'd rather not, for whatever reason that he refused to acknowledge.

"Where are you going?" Tyler asked.

Troye stopped at the door and leaned against the frame. "To get coffee. Be right back, I won't be long." And started off.

True to his words, it only took Troye five minutes to come back with a tray balanced on both hands, on the tray was two floral themed teacups with golden rims sat atop their matching saucers, a plate filled with some buttery pastries, a butter dish and ramekins filled with jam and probably milk and sugar. As soon as Troye walked into the loft, the aroma of the coffee hit his nostrils and the smell made Tyler's mouth water. Then the fragrant smell of the pastry was incredibly appealing that Tyler started walking towards where Troye was without his brain telling his legs to.

"You're in luck. Mrs A made scones! Her scones are to die for." Troye set the tray on the kitchen island and occupied one of the high stool. Tyler took the next one and looked fleetingly across the spread on the tray. The display of food was much more appetising up front, the steam from the hot coffees and the freshly baked golden brown scones risen and filled the airy space above them, the white swirling around the streak of golden sunlight before evaporated into thin air.

"Mrs A? As in Alperstein?" Tyler questioned, his frown plastered on his forehead. But that didn't stop him from shooting his hand out to grab the handle of the teacup filled with coffee, a bit more gingerly than necessary, for fear of possibly breaking it, now that he knew who the tea set belonged to. He took a sip of the rich, toasty coffee and swirled the hot liquid slowly as if he's tasting the quality of a freshly breathed wine, letting the earthy and bitterness from the roasted beans hit his tastebuds. It was indeed a good cup of coffee, definitely the upgrade of the century from the instant coffee that he had earlier. He took another sip, then another before setting the cup down into its saucer, feeling demure and caffeinated.

"Hmm, do you know any other Mrs A since yesterday?" Troye sassed at Tyler with spoken words and a big eye roll while his hand started grabbing for the scones and dunked one into one of the jam-filled ramekin before scooping a big dollop of it. His other hand went for the other cup of coffee and downed a big gulp. Tyler was mesmerised by Troye's ability to multitask so effortlessly, so much so his attention was only brought back to the meal on the table when his stomach growled.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Dig in! I promise you won't find someone to love you more after you've had Mrs A's scones." Troye managed all that whilst stuffing more bites of those said biscuit. Tyler wondered if Mrs A ever scolded him for talking with his mouth full.

"She baked scones? For you?"

"Technically she made them for the both of us, since she knew you're still here but yeah, scones. And sometimes pancakes. Oh, her blueberry pancakes are better than orgasms. Well, almost, but you know what I mean." Troye said as he grabbed his second scones and this time spread an abundant amount of butter on it.

"Pancakes." Tyler intended for his word to sound like a question but it came out more like a statement. It went to show just how baffled Tyler was feeling about the weirdness of their breakfast situation.

"Come on, detective. I didn't con her, if that's what you're concern about."

"Oh, I'm sorry for assuming but judging from her hostility yesterday, I'd expect her to call the security on you, not make you breakfast when you showed up at her door this morning, especially wearing only _that_." Tyler waved a hand at his direction, to point out the state of nakedness aside from the makeshift toga around his waist.

"She must have found your ability to blush red with the littlest things amusing and likeable."

"Huh, if I didn't know better, I'd think there's a compliment somewhere in that sentence."

"Oh?" Troye's eyes suddenly gleamed a mischief glint and rested his hand on Tyler's knee beside his. "If compliments is what you want, all you had to do is ask." He abandoned his interest on the food and focus on the one thing that he craved more than food. "I'll be happy to shower you with lots of them, _daddy_."

Tyler felt an immediate dryness in his throat as the hand on his knee started to move, tracing delicate patterns upwards to his thighs.

"I'll let daddy know how sexy he looked in just his boxer briefs, showing off his beautiful body." The voice that spoke those words was so sweet, almost childlike but so incredibly sinful at the same time. Tyler tried to focus on the hand, because it was touching playfully around the edge of his waistband, fluttering those slim fingers on the skin around his hips, and it felt good.

"I like it when daddy is all strong and manly, makes me shiver even though he makes me feel so hot all over." Troye got up from his stool and stood in between Tyler's thighs while traced one finger across the taut stomach and Tyler clenched his pecs at the teasing touch.

"Oh, how I love it when daddy gets rough with me, shoving me against walls and kisses me hard and deep. I get so aroused, my knees go weak.."

"Fuck, Sivan.." Tyler groaned. Troye kept exploring Tyler's body, manuveuring his finger up along his sternum before stopping just below his chest, just below his left rib.

"And when daddy demands me to suck his cock, I can't get it in my mouth sooner. Daddy likes it when I suck his big cock, doesn't he? Like having me choke on that hot, thick cock until daddy cums down my throat."

Tyler took a big drag of air to try to control his ragged breathing. In truth, everything inside was raging like a storm as he listened to the filthy and lewd things that spilled from Troye's mouth. Tyler watched as Troye backed away slightly, just enough for him to tug the linen lose and let it drop to the floor, exposing Troye's cock erected so beautifully. As he continued his word tease, his arms went around Tyler's neck and plastered their naked fronts together, trapping Troye's length in between them. Troye dropped featherlight kisses along Tyler's jaw, his mouth making its way towards Tyler's ear as he whispered his next words.

"And remember when daddy fucked me against the tabletop in his apartment, with my hands cuffed behind me? I haven't been able to get that out of my head. It was _so hot_ , daddy." Troye concluded and sucked in Tyler's earlobe and tugged it between his teeth. "Can we do that again, please daddy?"

That was as much as Tyler could handle before he snapped and charged forward, arms draped around the slim waist and cupped the perky globes of Troye's asscheeks, kneading and spreading the cheeks apart as he breathed harshly against Troye's hickey-littered neck. "You want that, baby? You want me to cuff you again and pound into your tight ass and make you scream until you have no voice left?"

Troye whimpered his answer as he grind his bare prick against Tyler's clothed one, and even then the friction was proving to be a little too much. The teasing have affected him,just as much as it has Tyler, and the tight coiling in his lower abdomen was so intense, it was a dead giveaway that he was close. And when Tyler's finger ghosted along the crease of his ass and finally thrust one firm finger into his sensitive entrance, he lost it. He cummed, hard, and he cried out with choked sobs, his knees buckled so violently, he would have fallen back if Tyler wasn't holding him up. Short ribbons of cum dribbled onto his and Tyler's stomach and Tyler all but cared if it stained his underwear too.

"Fuck, baby. Always so responsive to my touch. Like your body was custom made for me to pleasure you."

Troye was still drowning in his post orgasm haze, breaths still hitched with each successive wave of orgasmic pleasure which made him unable to make meaning of words, let alone string those words to form sentences. Tyler on the other hand, was pumped with growing lust which stemmed from his utmost desire for Troye to moan his name and only his name when Troye reaches his climax. Tyler had developed a gluttony for all the noises Troye make when he was lost in carnal bliss and he was none the wiser.

"Where is it, baby?" Tyler asked and Troye felt warm breaths ghosted his collarbone followed by a nip. He gasped.

Troye wanted to ask where is what? But all that came out was, "Hh _hnmm_?"

"My handcuffs, where is it? He asked again.

As soon as the word left Tyler's mouth, he felt renewed energy surged through his body, vanquishing any trace of exhaustion from his last orgasm. It's incredible how Tyler could control his bodily response so much more efficiently than he himself ever could. He was so fucked.

"On the sh-shelf, by the window." Troye told him raggedly, a result from the sheer anticipation and eagerness to be bound by the metal restraint once again. He remembered that night so clearly, how he had been begging for Tyler to fuck him harder while he struggled to keep himself up against the tabletop. The angle of his thrusts, the power that he exuded, they all made Troye so crazy with lust. All he wanted at that moment was more, more, and more. And now it was finally happening again. He trembled.

Tyler carried him in bridal style and laid him down on the bed. "Stay here."

Troye nodded obediently and watched and Tyler tutted over to the shelf to retrieve the said cuffs. When he came back, he climbed on the bed and straddled Troye, the cuffs dangling above his chest.

"I believe this is what you wanted?"

"Yes, yes. Please.."

"Do you know it's a federal offence to steal from a police officer?" Tyler lowered the cuffs until they were just touching the skin of his torso. Troye hissed from the coldness of the metal and goosebumps risen.

"I'm sorry, daddy. I just wanted something to remind me of that night."

"Really? Is that all you want, baby?"

Troye inhaled. "No.."

Tyler raised his eyebrow in question.

"I- I also wanted daddy to come look for me. I missed daddy and I want daddy to fuck me again. I want daddy to punish me."

And with that, Tyler's blood raged. He caught the cuffs in between his teeth while his hands went for Troye's and brought it above Troye's head before he strapped the cuffs onto the delicate wrists, bounding them to the bed post.

The gaze that Tyler shot him was so dark but alive at the same time, it reminded Troye of a lone wolf prowling in the middle of a stormy night, powerful, determined to find its ultimate prize. And in this case, he was Tyler's prize. That scenario, although made up by his own imagination, made him feel extremely wanted, and it created some very untelling feelings within.

But before those feelings had a chance to blossom, they dispersed like a dandelion in a windy meadow and replaced by sharp shocking electricity when Tyler bent forward and captured one of his nipple with his mouth and tweaked it in between his blunt teeth. Troye moaned and Tyler bit the taut nipple even harder before giving it a good hard suck. Troye arched his back, offering his body up to Tyler and let Tyler do whatever he wishes to his pliable body.

"Yes, daddy. Punish me. I'm a bad boy." Troye sobbed. "Fuck me, daddy. Do what you want with me. My body is yours."

Tyler growled possessively and littered the skin on Troye's sweaty torso with bites that promised to bruise later. "Say that again."

"I'm- I'm yours, daddy."

Tyler tore his mouth away from the heaving chest and began to admire his handiwork. Hands bound, chest rising and falling in such quick succession, body sprawled on the bed so loosely, the area that his mouth had just been started to darken with accumulated blood underneath the thin layer of skin. Everything contributed to him looking so lecherous and sensual. Troye Sivan, a masterpiece.

He rid himself of his boxer briefs and make a quick work to sheath his aching cock and coated necessary amount of lube over it. Then he averted his focus back to Troye, cocked his knees before spreading them apart and Tyler inserted himself in between Troye's slim thighs. With the remaining lube on his hand, he smeared them onto Troye's entrance, making sure it was well lubricated, for Tyler have every intention to fuck him hard and fast, deep into the mattress.

Aligning himself, he thrust forward and feeling the tight pressure slowly enveloping his thick head. The tight grip around his tapered head was one of the many sensation that he obsessed over. It was so snug, and no matter how many times Tyler have been there, it still felt like the first. "Oh fuck, baby. Always so tight, so hot.."

Troye pulled at the cuffed before he arched his back, an action that impaled himself further on Tyler's cock. "Oh, daddy hh _hmmm_.. Please daddy, more.."

It made no sense to Tyler for him to feel even more aroused when he heard those desperate pleadings, but he was, more aroused than he thought he was capable. The blood was sizzling and rushing to his already aching cock, the nerves felt so alive, so ready to feel more friction and sent trembling pleasure through his body. And so, Tyler complied Troye's wish and rammed into the tight ass, again and again, each thrust deeper and harder than the next, undulating his hips to create different angle and aimed for that area that would make Troye scream. Then he did. Judging from the increasing loud moans, Tyler had found Troye's most erogenous spot and so he pumped his hips harder, thrusting his cock into that hot nirvana.

Feeling himself getting close, he clasped his hand around Troye's dripping prick and stroked it. He tried to coordinate his hip thrusting and his hand movement to the best of his ability during when he was so close himself. His rhythm was breaking a little, making him stall for a split second before gaining back control. Huffing desperately for breaths, he forced himself to lock his gaze on the trashing mess underneath him, waiting for the glorious moment when Troye's flushed face would convulse in pleasure.

"Come on baby, cum with me. Cum, now!" Thrusting one, two, three more times, he felt the inner muscles started to clench around his cock and heeding to Tyler's words, Troye began writhing and trashing on the bed, losing all sorts of inhibition and screamed his climax without an inch of shame. That was the undoing of Tyler's control and released his clenched jaw, shouted a string of profanities that drowned out Troye's moans when he shot his load into Troye's ass.

It took him a longer while to come back down from his high and for his vision to focus from shutting his eyes so tightly over his intense orgasm. When it cleared, he saw that Troye was slumped bonelessly on the bed; white cums decorating his abdomen, exhausted to the tee, looking utterly debauched. He pulled out gingerly and plopped himself down on the bed on his sides, facing Troye.

"How is that for a punishment?"

Still catching his breath, Troye turned his head towards Tyler. "Ah, it was adequate. Though I have every faith in every holy scripture in the universe that you can do so much better."

Tyler peeled one eyelid open and squinted at Troye, smirked, and then chuckled at the exasperating yet tempting little sex-on-a-stick. He got up from the bed, tutted around the loft to get himself clean and to gather his stuff, got dressed and finished off his remaining coffee before he heard Troye clearing his throat.

"Oh detective, you can get me out of this cuffs anytime now." He sang.

Tyler placed the cup back on the tray, missing its saucer before he picked up the previously discarded linen on the floor and headed back to the bed. He flung the linen over Troye's body haphazardly, only covering Troye's important bits before he headed to the door.

"H-hey, detective? Where are you going?"

"It would appear that I'm going home." Tyler said over his shoulder.

"Before you go, aren't you forgetting something?" Troye emphasised his words by tugging at the metal cuffs.

"Hmm, I don't think so. I think I left things just how I wanted." Tyler winked at Troye. Or one should say, a little twitch of both his eyes that resembled one tenth of a wink.

"Come on, detective, it's not cool to tease. Who knows how long before Caspar get back? Not to mention, you left me quite messy all over. Don't think he'll appreciate seeing that."

Tyler strode back to the bed before leaning down to capture Troye's mouth and Troye could taste the coffee on those thin lips. When Tyler stepped back, Troye looked at him hopefully but quickly felt a flare of panic when Tyler retreated slowly with a wicked grin on his face.

"Well, you asked for a punishment, you got it. Tell Mrs Alperstien thanks for me, will you?" And walked out the door.

"W-wait! Tyler!" And the door slammed shut. "Oh, come on.." Troye groaned as he stared at the unbudging door, willing for it to reopen again but it didn't. He sighed and slumped further down the bed and braced himself for the berating he will get when Caspar finally came home.

A couple of hours later, true to his prediction, Caspar gave him an earful of his bitching, saying incredulous ranting about how he didn't sign up to be in his cleanup squad and he should get paid for every time he had to endure seeing Troye's and his lover's whoopie sticks and ding-dongs.

"I really don't know what to say, bruh."

Troye almost chuckled at the irony.

"Is this gonna be a continuous arrangement or is it a one time thing?" Caspar continued.

"I don't know Casp, but I don't mind a couple more times. He's such a good fuck, and he got a huge co-"

"GAAAHHH! Do _not_ finish that sentence! I don't wanna hear it!" Caspar said ever so abruptly.

"What? Cock? Oh, Casp. You've seen his cock, what difference does it make if I say it? Besides, it's a beautiful cock."

"Stop it! I'm trying to get the image out of my brain. It had been terrorising my mind all day. And he owes me a new hat!"

Troye ended up laughing at Caspar's over dramatic behaviour and earned a ball of scrunched up dirty linen thrown at his face.

"But seriously, bruh. Do you think it's a good idea to continue seeing him? I mean, he's a cop."

"Pffft, why not?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because he's a fucking cop? I don't think he's someone you should associate yourself with." Caspar waved his hands around before folding them in front of his chest.

"On the contrary, he's exactly the kind I should be associating myself with." Troye countered.

"Troye.." Caspar's tone turned serious and sat down beside Troye on the bed. "You don't think he can help you find-"

"No. Yes. I don't know. Maybe?" Troye cut him off because he already knew where the conversation was reverting to.

"But you don't even know if he's-"

"I know, Caspar. I didn't plan this. But he seemed to take a liking to me and if there's any fucking opportunity, I'd take it."

"Just be careful, alright? Maz won't like it if he finds out. Or Jack, for that matter."

"They're not gonna find out." Troye said and something his tone sounded final.

The silence that followed were both comforting and worrisome at the same time. Both of them were well aware of the things that were unspoken and both knew that it wouldn't make much difference if they voiced them. And so they relished in the mutual understanding that whatever happens in the future to any one of them, they'll have each other to rely on for they are two individuals whom are thicker than blood brothers.

And so after a long shower, he stayed in the loft alone when Caspar had offered to go get some sushi takeaway for their dinner. He stared into blankness and tried to force his mind to ease up the stress that had been triggered from the little talk with Caspar. Usually he would let the rapture of the dark to put his mind at ease but not tonight. Tonight, it failed to do so and now his mind was running with a million things that always make his heart heavy with guilt and fear. He looked over to the standing easel holding a portrait and couldn't stop the hot prickling at the back of his eyes. He shut them stubbornly and tossed his head back, exhaling a harsh breath before he spoke lowly, to the portrait but mostly to himself.

"Please, wait for me. You know I'm never gonna give up hope. I'm gonna do whatever it takes and however long it takes to have you come back to me. I promise you, my darling, soon."


	7. seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who is jealous to death by the photo Troye posted of himself in the grey/silvery wig? Me. 
> 
> And who is inspired to write a really sinful I'm-going-to-hell-for-it chapter by that photo? Me.
> 
> Enjoy!

The velvety blanket that is the darkness was momentarily a friend when it usually would be a foe. It was close to pitch black, with only the flimsy, flickering streetlights illuminating the dark alley. The scarceful luminous stars were helping none, for they were kept out of view by blocks of buildings, and when they did peek in between buildings, they were mostly shadowed by clouds.

Nights like these were typically bustled with wailing sounds of sirens, angry horns and jibberish drunks. They came all random and loud but they were as much of an interference as they were white noises, depending if any attention was being paid to them. Just so if someone were to be paying even the slightest of attention to the activity that was going on in one of the dark alleys, they would have heard some strange sounds that were mid-way of someone dying or someone deliriously high on drugs. Either way, the soft purring, the breathless moaning and the rough tenor of growls were drowned out by the impeccably notorious sounds of the city.

The night began with one simple task. Simple, yet the longer the task went on, it reluctantly turned into monotonous and dreadfully uneventful. It would have been exquisitely dull if it wasn't for the delightful company whose ability to talk people's ears off matches his own. Ten more minutes and it would have been exactly five hours Tyler was stuck staring at the passing people and loud drunks coming out from the club across the street. His eyes were starting to water, his ass felt flat for sitting for so long and he don't think he can feel his legs at this point.

He popped another sour cream flavoured chips into his mouth before he offered the bag to Marcus, who was almost as bored as he was, if not more. After the fiasco of letting Sam Pepper escape by a hairs breadth, yet again, they had a strong suspicion of an inner mole who's constantly feeding Sam and his men with critical information. Tyler is a firm believer of coincidences, given the correct set of situations but these many times of near capture only to have him slithe away like water in cupped hands was more than coincidences. No one is as lucky as that son of a bitch. He must have had help, one way or another.

The stakeout was proving to be a bust; they have been at it like two stooges but their efforts weren't producing any reward. What they have was a stiff back and probably a stiffer ass as a result of sitting in that cramped cop car for five hours straight. Their source have led them there in a dark alley, in front of the infamous club operated by Sam's henchman. The club is such a talk of the underground scene, for rumours said that for any patrons who frequent the club, men and women alike, they all came for the same reason, one goal, which is to have a chance to meet with the club's most prized possession, The Twins. It is said that anyone who has the opportunity to be in the presence of The Twins, they will be experiencing the best night of their lives, visually, mentally and some say, physically and spiritually. Words spread like wild fire and young men and women flocked over to the club and hoped that the lucky one would be them.

What the patrons don't know, is the fact that people, especially girls were reported missing after they have visited there. It was an ominous suspicion, that girls were chosen carefully, all of whom were not from the city and they were taken from the club after they have had their incredibly out-of-body-experience with The Twins. Tyler tried to imagine The Twins as Gods, as their appeal was describe as such, strong enough to be attracting people from all over just to see them. It was either that, or drugs. He'd rather believe that he'd find a gay alien out there than to accept that a living human being may possess such great allure. So, his sceptism remains, he's banking on drugs.

Even though the club reeked of illegal activities but the files on the twins were literally paper thin, despite their popularity. All the force had on them was their name, _Harries_ , and the public and witness' profiling of them. They are such a mystery and never once caught on camera, but they were described to be unbelievably beautiful. The charm that they exude and the aura that they give out would have caused a riot if a riot is what they wanted. Handsome, charismatic and there is two of them, Tyler would very much like to see this mysterious pair for himself to really understand the scale of their attraction.

"Fuck it. I'm gonna go freshen up and get some coffee. You want anything, mate?" Marcus said in that beautifully accented voice. Even after so many years being partnered with him, the accent still awed Tyler, still sends warmth to Tyler's being. Or maybe it was what that voice offered to do that appealed to him, that made him shot up from his slouched posture.

"Oh my god, yes! I'm starving! Even if it's sour cream, I can only stomach so much of these chips. Would you be so kind to get me a veggie burger from the Cheesecake Factory?" Tyler asked politely.

"Oakley, can you not want something that requires me to walk more than five blocks to get it?" Marcus retorted while fixing his hair in the rear mirror.

"Please, Marky?" His voice turned childish and blinked his eyes a couple of time to have a better effect.

Marcus shifted in his seat to face Tyler with a I-could-care-less expression. "Nope, save your puppy eyes for someone who actually aren't immune to them."

Tyler raised his eyebrows with exaggeration . "Oh, that's how you wanna do it, huh? Fine. Brooklyn."

"What? Oh, come on, Tyler. Really? You're gonna pull the Brooklyn card on me? For a crap of a veggie burger?" Marcus said in disbelief.

"Exc _use you._ First of all, that is not just some ordinary veggie burger. It's _the_ veggie burger and second of all, I can play the Brooklyn card however I want. So yes, you bet your ass I'm gonna pull a Brooklyn on you if it means I'm gonna get my burger."

Marcus shook in head. "You're insufferable."

"Oh, you know you love me, Marky."

"And I ask myself why, every day." Tyler heard him grumbled under his breath as he stepped out of the car and slammed the door shut.

"Don't forget the extra beet!" Tyler whispered-shouted and he grinned, pleased as Marcus waved a hand above his head without turning back and disappeared around the corner of the building.

Tyler would have felt guilty for using something that he knew Marcus can't refuse if he wasn't so bored out of his mind and hungry. Brooklyn is a code name for one incident that happened during their job more than a year ago. It was a raid into an underground factory in Brooklyn that was manufacturing an illegal substance, a crucial ingredient to complete a mass production of a new drug, called Phantom. The raid was a success, but just as the team was rounding up the evidence, Marcus was almost shot by a perpetrator when he tried to escape the factory. On instinct, Tyler pushed Marcus out of harm's way but as a result Tyler himself had dove into a wall of stacked of barrels and knocked over them, and he woke up in the hospital the next day with two broken ribs and a head concussion. Since then, Marcus had repeatedly reminded Tyler that he owes Tyler his life.

And so, Brooklyn is something Marcus holds dearly to, and he'd probably regretted it, since now he found out that Tyler would use it to his advantage for something as trivial as getting a veggie burger in the middle of a stakeout. Tyler slouched back in his seat with a happy sigh, but quickly realised his mistake of sending Marcus off a bit far. He'd have to endure this boredom alone now. He groaned and slammed his forehead on the dashboard and let out a low sigh, reassessing every detail of tonight's task, trying to make worth all the hours they've poured into.

Just then, there was someone knocking on his side of the car window. Startled, he sprung back to his seat and his hand quickly reached for his gun in his holster. Seeing that there is no gun being pointed at him through the window, only then he'd eased up a little. What he saw instead was a woman, judging from the chest length silvery hair and the slim figure wrapped in a trench coat leaning against the car. _This is how young girls were abducted. They have no common sense to not knock on stranger's car that's parked in a dark alley, alone._

"Hey lady, it's not safe to wander around the streets at this times of night, especially in this neighbourhood. Go home." Tyler gave her a friendly warning after he wound the window down. The winter breeze swooshed into the car and Tyler took in a deep breath, feeling the coolness jolting his boredom-muddled brain back to clarity.

Upon hearing Tyler, the woman pushed herself off of where she was leaning on and Tyler could hear her heels clicking away. Tyler was just about to relax again when he suddenly felt a jerk at the back of the car. One would have thought being a cop for so many years, it should take a lot more to surprise Tyler. Just so that her action had utterly surprised him. Looking back the rear mirror, Tyler saw that she was currently seated atop the car boot like she's leisurely sunbathing somewhere in the middle of a Caribbean beach.

Stunted, his annoyance was relatively slow to surface. It was just his luck, to meet with nut cases like her as soon as his partner went off and left him alone at the stakeout. Tyler was all but willing to stray from his task but he also can't afford to have an innocent bystander, regardless if she's a little crazy or not, just lurking about the vicinity in case he had to spring into action at any possible time. So, out he went, mentally preparing himself for any possible retaliation that might be put forth by her. It just so happens, there was nothing in the archive of his mind that would prepare him for the attack he felt when he laid his eyes on her.

She was beautiful, to say the least; she was all limbs, long and elegant. Her legs that went on for days dangled loosely over the car boot, one crossed over the other and the knee-high leather boots created soft squeaky sound as they rubbed against each other. Tyler shifted his gaze to her face and felt air rushed out of his lungs. Soft and delicate features adorning her lovely face, with brow bones arched just so they casted shadows on her flushed cheeks, thick dark brows framing those big blue orbs, sparkling as they captured the low light of the moon.

Maybe it was the sense of familiarity that delayed his brain activity, but as he studied the face some more; the nose ring and the very soft looking lips, plump and pink, upturned into a cheeky grin, Tyler would have recognise that from miles away. They were the same lips that he had enjoyed kissing for the past few weeks and the same lips that do incredible and unspeakable things when wrapped around his cock. Then, as if the lips took pity on his confused mind, a sweet giggle escaped through those said lips and the sound made everything click in Tyler's brain.

 _She-. He-. What the-. Oh_.

"Fuck. Me." Tyler muttered without realising it. Not that he could care, really, because all of his ability to make sense of things and to form coherent thoughts was temporarily forgotten. He lost all sense of meaning, his brain fried with the realisation that one of his biggest fetish had been served up to him at the most inappropriate time. It was causing a wreck to his body, his brain and his cock wanting different things and he felt his body being pulled apart by such contrasting desire. Tyler contemplated and fought with himself on what to do. There he was, out in public behind a dark alley, in the middle of a stakeout and aroused to a degree that he didn't think possible. It seemed like the only thing that kept him grounded was the hammering of his heart. So, he focus on that, and feeling his heart rhythmically and consistently pumping more blood to his nether region.

Then, Tyler heard the voice chuckle. "Well, the grand idea is for _you_ to fuck _me_ , detective."

"Fuck." Tyler said, his cock began to ache. His eyes slid from that beautiful face and swept further down until it landed on the red pleated skirt fitted so nicely on that narrow waist. The skirt was short, it stopped midway of those creamy thighs. But that is all there is to those creamy thighs because the rest of those porcelain skin was covered by a thing layer of black stockings, hemmed with intricate lace and secured by a clip attached on a black strip that guided his eyes up, tracing slowly along the side of those said thighs, until it disappeared underneath those skirt. _Of fucking course he's wearing a fucking garter belt_. "Fuck." He said again, relishing on the fact that he sounded like an idiot.

Even though the subject had been nonchalantly brought up a couple of times in passing conversations, Tyler has never really anticipated for Troye to take it so literally. He had totally transformed from a sweet, delicious twink to this extremely gorgeous, seductive goddess. Tyler felt like he'd sinned just by staring at this beautiful creature, and he haven't even had a touch. It made his blood sizzle so hotly in his veins to know that all of this was tailor-made for him, his ultimate fantasy.

Tyler watched, rooted to his spot, as Troye uncross his legs and spread them wide open, revealing more skin on his inner thighs. The space in between his legs was dark and hollow, calling out to him, and it felt as though there was a supernatural energy that existed that interfered with his brain's functions. He gulped visibly and Troye's eyes immediately darted to his throat, following where the line of his neck rolled before shooting his gaze back at Tyler, lips upturned into a sly grin, and made a come hither movement, gesturing Tyler to go to him.

He wouldn't admit it to anyone but he heeded as if under a spell and moved his legs, one step ahead of another until he was snugly in between those sexy legs.

"So..." Troye sang, smiling sweetly while biting playfully at his own bottom lip. "How do you like- _ahhmmmph_!"

Tyler's control slid and slammed their mouths together, giving Troye a sudden, bruising kiss that made him startled and gasped into Tyler's mouth. Seeing Troye biting the plump lip, pulling the skin tightly in between his teeth, Tyler's blood raged and his brain told him he wanted to do that to Troye. And so he did, gnashing and nibbling, rolling the rounded flesh in between his mouth and sucked. Troye whimpered and Tyler cupped Troye's face with both his hands and intensified their kiss.

The sound that he pulled out of Troye was so beautiful, he felt a shiver run through his body. He glided his hands to Troye's back, tracing the seam of the trench coat and reached his pert ass before he gripped both sides of Troye's hip and pushed their lower bodies together with such force, it made the car jerked.

"This is unfair, Sivan. How is it that you always make me batshit crazy by the most unconventional way during most inconvenient times?" Tyler whispered and caught the moan that spilled from Troye's mouth when he went in and demanded another kiss.

"Tell me how is it that you know exactly what would make my blood boil?"

Troye tried to answer but all that came out of his mouth was a purring noise, and judging by the tighten grip on his hips, that seemed to unravel a little bit more of the control Tyler was still hanging on.

"How the fuck can you be so obnoxious and still be so _fucking sexy_?" Tyler growled before diving in again, fastening his mouth onto Troye's neck and littered wet kisses on it, swirled his tongue around the soft skin, sucking, nibbling, and the mixture of the sweet lavender body wash and the saltiness of his sweat was doing it for Tyler. Troye Sivan, the witty street rat, completely and irrevocably pliable to him and yielding to all of his wishes. His ego soared and suddenly, everything else deemed unimportant to him other than his desire to plunge his cock into the hot, tight vise that he knew was waiting for him, only for him.

Tyler dropped his inhibition and yanked the trench coat off of Troye's shoulders, using the trench coat to trap him by his elbows before pushing him back to lay down on the rear window. The position was slightly uncomfortable, but Troye relished in it and arched his backs when Tyler hitched the skirt up to reveal the matching, lacey black underpants that was doing a poor job of hiding Troye's arousal. With one good yank, Tyler ripped it off and dropped it on the dirty alley. Troye gasped, followed by a strangled moan when Tyler took Troye's dripping cock into his mouth and teased the overly sensitive head.

"Ohh, yes, yes.. God, yes, detective."

Tyler hummed and enveloped more of Troye's hot length into his mouth, feeling it throb against his tongue and give it a good hard suck.

"Hhhhmm.. Oh fuck, fuc _kyesyess_!"

Encouraged, Tyler continued sucking on the hard prick, wet with saliva and precum, and couldn't fucking make himself care one bit the mess that he's making of the two of them. His finger trailed down the base of Troye's cock, fondled his balls, feeling it heavy and hot in his palm before he slid his fingers along the crease in between the pert ass and stopped at the entrance. Tyler halted all of his movement, detached his mouth from Troye's cock and focus on his finger as it slid smoothly into Troye's ass, feeling it already slippery with lube and well opened.

Tyler felt the inner muscles clenched around his finger as Troye wiggled his ass.

"I- I- came prepared, detective." Troye said, his voice strangled. "Thought it'll save us some time if- if I work myself open first."

As Troye spoke those words, Tyler immediately imagined the scene in his brain. Troye, aroused and naked on the bed, thrusting his fingers wantonly into his ass, working himself up until he's loose enough. Tyler wondered if Troye felt naughty when he was dressing up in those lacey lingerie after he'd fucked himself open. He felt a deep swoop in this stomach knowing that Troye had walked around the city with a hard-on hidden underneath the trench coat, and he probably made a couple of hot blooded man jerk off to the sexy disguise he was in. _He did all of these for you_. The voice at the back of his mind told him, and he snapped.

"You conflict me. You make me do things that I never thought I'd do. You cause me pain in the most delicious way." Tyler growled sexily and hoisted Troye down from the car and flipped him over. Tyler gave those perky ass a hard spank before he undid his pants and hurriedly pulled his strained cock out of the suffocating confinement.

"But then, I think I very much enjoyed being a masochist if it means I get to do this." And with that, Tyler plunged his aching cock into the awaiting hole, gliding in all at once and Troye screamed. It was amazing; the heat, the tight vise around his cock and the friction it caused with every little movement, it made Tyler's mind go blank. But with the momentarily blankness comes the increasing urge to start moving, and Tyler moved only because he couldn't not move. And so Tyler fucked him as he was being bent over the car boot, thoroughly and so hard, it jerked the car with each forward thrust. Tyler could see through the corner of his eyes Troye was struggling to catch a firm hold on the slippery surface as his body being hitched forward every time Tyler pounded into him. And pound he did, it took Tyler everything he had to delay his impending release. But like trying to squeeze blood from turnips, it was impossible, utterly unachievable because those delectable noises of whining and strained moans were bombarding his ears, resonating through his core in the darkness of the alley.

"Please, please, pleaseeee.. Fuck me harder, I want to feel you for days!"

And Tyler complied and rammed into him in a relentless rhythm, making sure with each thrust he was buried to the hilt and hit the sensitive spot that would make Troye feel deliriously good.

"Yes! Fuck me! Right _there_.. Oh god, don't stop!"

"Such a slut for my cock, aren't you baby? Always begging for more."

"Ye _syesyesyess_ , I love it. I love your cock in me, so full and thick. _Fuckyess_!" Troye's voice squeaked at the end as Tyler rammed into him particularly forceful.

"I'm a slut for you, detective. Please, I need you. I want you to cum in me!"

And just as Troye said it, he'd imagined himself shooting his load into Troye's hot ass and immediately felt a thunderous wave of lust coursing through the length of his body, rushing towards his cock and creating an incredible pressure. His cock throbbed and his balls drew taut. And when Troye began to clench his ass, indicating he'd reach the beginning of his orgasm, the sensation pushed Tyler over the edge and he cummed with an intensity that made his eyes rolled to the back of his skull. His hips moved in an autopilot mode as he revelled in the hot bliss that thrummed through his body. When he finally caught his breath again, he pulled out with a hiss and tried to clean himself the best he can where the utterly spent Troye still laid face down on the car boot.

Tyler watched as Troye supported himself clumsily on wobbly legs and pulled his trench coat back up before securing it with a belt around his waist. The lacey underpants was torn beyond repair and Tyler was glad that the trench coat was long enough to cover everything. He quickly locked away the misplaced anger as he thought of stray eyes looking at the totally debauched Troye. He wanted to be the only one to know what's hidden underneath, a naked ass that has been thoroughly fucked and filled with his cum. Tyler closed the distance between them before be spoke.

"I want you to go back to my apartment and wait for me. Leave everything on, you hear me?" Tyler said in a low voice, deep and sexy.

"Yes, daddy. Please hurry." Troye answered in a hoarse voice, a product of all his screaming during their copulation. He lean in to steal a kiss from Tyler and Tyler let him. After making sure he was steady enough to walk in heels again, Troye adjusted his disguise and strutted out of the alley, leaving Tyler alone.

Breathing in the cool air, his felt his heart started to beat in a much normal pace. Taking a few steps, he reached the side of the car but refused to resume his place in that cop car, especially not after the bizarre fuck fest that he was in just minutes ago. Tyler rested his forehead onto the roof of the car and let the coolness of the metal clear his mind. He should be berating himself by now, chiding his lack of control and probably risking a hundred things at once by his irresponsible actions, but he couldn't, not when he can't find it in him to deny the fact that what happened just moments ago was the most thrilling experience he had and he'd never felt more alive.

"Hey Oakley, you alright there, mate?"

Tyler shot up straight as he heard the familiar accent behind him. "Fuck, Marcus. You scared the hell out of me!"

"Fucking chill, Tyler. It's not like I stealth-attacked you or anything."

"You could have given me a heart attack and when I die, good luck finding a new partner that'll cover your ass like I did."

"Okay, okay! I'm sorry, geez. What's gotten into you?" Marcus said as he handed the bag from Cheesecake Factory to Tyler. Tyler took the bag and went into the car. Marcus followed suit.

"Judging by the position I found you in, I assumed you didn't see her?"

"Who her?" Tyler asked as he grabbed his vanilla milkshake out of the bag and took a huge gulp.

"Gah, I knew it. Such a shame. I know you're only into blokes and all that, but come on, even you would appreciate the beauty of a woman, right? She's bloody fit, I tell you. All tall and lanky, face of an angel. But then the leather boots just screams dominatrix, ya know? Too bad she's all covered up in trench coat."

Tyler spewed the milkshake all over the dashboard in front of him and even got some on the window.

"What the fuck, Oakley!" Marcus shouted as Tyler started a coughing fit and fumbled to get some napkins out of the bag to clean the mess he'd made.

"Shit, Tyler, I know you're gay and all, but don't you think you're over reacting a little bit?" Marcus teased him again and Tyler shot him a non-threatening glare.

"Shut up, Marcus. If anything, I'm more appalled by the fact that you're eye fucking some random woman on the street while you have a girlfriend."

"Aye, mate. Let me stop you there. I did not eye fuck her, alright? I was just making an observation. I merely just got a glimpse of her when she walked pass just now. I'm just pointing out that she looked good. That's all."

"Yeah, whatever, _mate_."

Tyler wondered what Marcus would think if he knew the truth about his _dominatrix angel._ But just as he thought, any hot-blooded man would have easily been seduced by the image that Troye created. Truly a gifted artist, he is. Tyler didn't know if he should feel proud or annoyed that men are ogling at Troye, but he took the small satisfaction in the fact that by the end of this night, he's the only one who gets to take those clothes off of Troye, unraveling him like a present on Christmas morning and fuck him through New Year.

And all of a sudden, time couldn't move fast enough.


	8. eight

The concept of time has become a big lump of mess for Tyler recently. Some days the seconds ticked by at a snail's pace, the time in between seconds stretched so long he felt like pulling out his hair. And then there's some days where time zoomed by so fast, weeks had past but they felt like merely hours. So it was slightly beyond belief that it had been months since Troye had barged into his life and stayed there for the most of the time, and it had just occurred to Tyler that he had not felt this good in a long time.

It was simple, their relationship, if one can even label what it is as a relationship. They were two good looking individuals who finds each other attractive and not ashamed to find excitement from each other and indulged in each others' body. They have just been focusing on the fun and never discussed the nature of their relationship. It was a silent agreement and they mutually understood that they would fuck without any burden of commitment. It was always spontaneous, carefree and _extremely hot_ , the things they do and they just couldn't get enough of each other. As it turned out, there's an unspoken obsession that had blossomed since the beginning but both had done everything they could to never acknowledge it.

It was simple, their relationship, and they have been hooking up left and right, sometimes in Tyler's apartment, sometimes in Troye's loft, and occasionally out and about the streets of New York City. And when they do hang out in Troye's loft, Caspar would conveniently disappear for a couple of days and Tyler would be looking forward to the scrumptious English breakfast that would miraculously be left on Troye's front door each morning at ten o'clock sharp.

The routine that they've fallen into was not exactly domestic as it was comfortable, but they have at least stayed the night at each other's place and left a few articles of clothing behind when they went about to do their business the next morning. They fucked like bunnies and they bickered like old couples but they won't go as far as labeling them as boyfriends, just because.

A few weeks into their supposedly no-strings-attached but beneficial friendship, Tyler, however, had stop denying his desire to get to know Troye for more than just how to get him off. Despite how Troye had come into his life, despite him being a street rat, judging from the amount of time he'd spent with Troye, he's convinced that there's so much more to Troye than he portrayed himself to be, and he found himself wanting to uncover everything and peel off one layer at a time until ultimately uncover what was hidden in the very center of Troye's true heart. Maybe it was the nature of his job to find out the truth but if he's being honest, he would admit that he was curious, mostly aided by how closed up Troye seemed to be, mentally and emotionally, to him.

It wasn't easy though. Troye was as stubborn as an ox and each time Tyler thought he was one step closer, Troye took two steps back. It was like a game of tug-of-war, they were both pulling at the rope on opposite ends and Troye have been resisting being pulled over by Tyler. Some days during passing conversations, Tyler would share some new piece of information about himself, hoping that it would give Troye an opening to share some back. But Troye being Troye, would suavely dodge having to reciprocate it and in turn changed the subject all together. He would play it down as cheeky but Tyler knew better.

"Hey, what's that?" Tyler asked suddenly when his eyes caught something as he watched Troye stretch his body on the messy bed. From where he was sitting, on the couch a few feet way, he could make out a tiny mark on Troye's side just above his ribs and he frowned.

Troye shot Tyler with a questioning look, a clear expression of _what-are-you-talking-about_ without having to actually say it out loud. That's just one of his limited accomplishments from his effort of getting to know Troye better. Apart from excelling in reading's Troye's body language, Tyler finds himself getting better and better at reading Troye's face.

"That. Under your armpit. What is that? I can't believe I've never seen it before until now." Tyler asked him again and stood up from the couch. He walked over to the bed, sat next to Troye before he flipped Troye over onto his side and examined the mark in much closer proximity.

"It seemed impossible to have missed this since I can already map out your body based on memory alone. But what is this?" Tyler asked for the third time, his finger brushing around the skin where the mark was on, and immediately saw goosebumps rising up and decorating his pale skin.

Troye giggled and writhed on the bed but was hold still with a hand on his hip. "It's nothing. It's just a stupid consequences of losing a bet. Oh my god, no. Stop it. It's ticklish!"

"You're such a baby, you know that?" Tyler taunted but his eyes never leaving the small black mark on Troye's tender flesh. Even though it was significantly small and almost illegible due to the shit skill of the person who put it there, but Tyler was able to make out two letters.

"S.M." Tyler muttered lowly and felt Troye squirmed a little when his breath hits Troye's side.

It could have been a million things of what it could be, but Tyler's treacherous mind suddenly deprived him of any logical thought. He had a strong feeling that the letters stands for the initials of someone's name. As soon as he made that assumption, he felt a flare of jealousy flooding up his common sense and everything rational. He had no reason at all to feel that way because it's something of Troye's past. But on the other hand, it's Troye, the guy who'd erected a steel wall around his heart and wouldn't reveal any personal information about himself and the guy who wriggled like a fish in a net when he's ticklish. So to have him willingly endure the pain of the needles poking into that tender area on his side and allowing whoever that person was to mark him permanently like this, he can't shake of the dreadful feeling that this person had meant a lot to him.

"Looks like I was too late. Didn't think you'd let someone mark you like this." Tyler spoke sincerely. He was both shocked and ashamed by what he had just said, he sounded very much like an insecure lover. But thankfully Troye didn't seemed to caught on the pettiness of his muttered words.

"Oh, shut up. You may not believe it but I'm actually a man of my word. I lost the bet fair and square, and so now I have this." Troye defended as he placed his own fingers over the inked letters, feeling the slight bump of skin where the ink was etched into. He exhaled slowly before he continued. "But I'm not surprised that you didn't see it before, it's hidden quite well, don't you think? I chose this spot for that specific reason, you know?"

Tyler wanted to ask more but bit his tongue, he didn't want to seem too prying or worse, needy. But it seemed that even if he wanted to continue with this conversation, Troye had once again managed to remove himself out of the situation and save himself from any possible requisition from Tyler when they both heard a loud growl that came from the direction of Tyler's stomach.

"Oh my God, detective. You aren't very subtle when it comes to food, are you?" Troye laughed and got up from the bed and retrieved his boxer briefs that was discarded on the floor yesterday. Tyler watched at the slender figure of Troye's back as he wandered off into the bathroom.

"Shut up."

***

Just as they were about done with breakfast, the door of Troye's loft swung open with a loud bang. They both turned towards the noise only to see Caspar standing by the door, body stilled with an exaggerated pose of a man bracing for battle, both legs spread wide, one in front of the other, one hand holding the door open and one hand clutching tightly to his phone. They watched as Caspar's eyes darted back and forth between them before his expression dropped into a scowl.

"Okay, I'm so ready to just barge in here and expecting to find you guys going at it on the kitchen table or something. I've even got my phone ready to film it and I could blackmail you and get some money from you two. Now, I think I should clarify, I don't really need the money but who doesn't want more money right? And also, considering the number of things that you two have broken during your-, you know-, _banging_ and all that kinky shit, I thought you should at least pay some of the costs. Wait, no, fuck. I probably shouldn't admit my plan for extortion to a cop. Fuck, uhmmm Detective Oakley, just forget I said anything, I was just being my rambling self, nothing new. The coffee smells absolutely amazing by the way, and is that blueberry pancakes? Wow, so yum. Carry on."

Caspar retracted from his dramatic pose and shove his phone back into his pocket before rubbing his hands awkwardly at the back of his neck. "And uhh- Troye, can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Why? If you want to film us you could just ask both of us right now. I think we'll be able to come up with something that's beneficial to all of us. Do you think my left side looks better?" Troye said, for the fun of teasing Tyler as well as taunting the hell out of Caspar.

"Uhm, no. Just.." Caspar tipped his head sideways, a form of gesture to say _come on_.

Troye rolled his eyes before getting up from his seat and walked over to Caspar. Tyler watched as Caspar ushered Troye out and quickly shut the door behind them. It did piqued Tyler's suspicion but he had learn to think less of Caspar's ever existing quirky behavior. Besides, he doesn't think anyone could understand the kind of friendship that pair has and he definitely didn't think to even try.

But as they left to talk about God-knows-what in private, it provided Tyler with one of those rare moments where he was left in the loft alone. It just felt a little different because he had been so used to having Troye around when he's here in the loft. But it's not to say that he minded the temporary isolation, but the quietness was whispering to him, cajoling his curious side to delve deeper into the loft and uncover any clues that would tell him more about Troye.

Looking over to the far end of the loft which Tyler had conveniently named it as the "artsy corner", it was a little different from the last time he'd been here. It was still messy as the last time; used paintbrushes littered on the table, dried up paints on the palettes but the painting that Troye had been working on had made some progress. Tyler walked over to the artsy corner unknowingly and stopped in front of the painting, so closely that his feet were in between the two front legs of the easel. He stared at the canvas, totally entranced by the bold color of the painting. He knows nothing about art but one look at this painting in front of him, he was hit by an unmistakable emotion that was practically seeping out of it. Anger. It was intense because everything was in red; at least ten flares of it being swished and splattered on the canvas, strong bold strokes, angry and unforgiving, painted around a pair of womanly lips. The lips were parted and the red surrounding it suggested it's screaming bloody murder. Tyler pressed a finger on the lip and felt the thick red paint burst and smeared on the canvas underneath his finger. It was so startling that he felt a shiver from his own action and he shuddered.

"What are you doing?"

Tyler retrieved his finger before turning on his heels to face Troye, only to see his face a picture of worry and uncertainty. This was the first time Tyler had seen him looked so unsure and almost bordering panicking, so vulnerable. Tyler felt an odd tugging of his heartstrings and wanted nothing more than go to him and soothes those worries away.

"Oh, I'm just checking out this painting while you're gone. It's quite interesting, this one." Tyler told him while pointing his stained finger to the canvas beside him. Troye's eyes flicked to something much further into the artsy corner, just for a fraction of second before returning his gaze back to Tyler, his face changed back to the mischievous expression that Tyler was more used to seeing. He walked over to the nearby shelf and grabbed a black rolled up fabric before sauntering to the bed.

"Come here."

Curiosity heightened, Tyler went to him and seated himself on the bed in front of Troye with the rolled-up fabric laying heavily in between them. "Well, if you want to know more about paintings, I'd be more than willing to spend my afternoon educating the utterly clueless jock that very much in need to enrich his knowledge on art and culture. I may know of a way to guarantee satisfactory lesson."

Troye's grin widen as he pushed Tyler down on the bed just so he was lying flat on his back. Troye crawled on top of him and seated nicely on Tyler's strong thighs and nudged the rolled-up fabric closer. He proceeded to undo the strings that holds the fabric together and unrolled it out onto the bed just next to Tyler's hips. Tyler craned his head up sideways to have a look at what was revealed; an array of different paintbrushes arranged neatly in two rows and seated in their own pockets. Tyler watched as Troye pick one of the brushes, one with the even hair at the end.

"Lesson number one; know your brushes." Tyler flicked the brush above Tyler's chest like he was casting a spell from a wand. "Ready?"

Tyler nodded and Troye smirked.

"This is called a flat brush. The bristle is made of medium long hair and it has a square end." Troye lifted the brush and place it hair side down onto the middle of Tyler's chest.

"It is used for washes, filling out wide spaces..." Troye continued as his hand moved, brushing the soft hair, bristle as Troye had called it, on his chest. "...but it is best used in straight edges and creating long stripes, like so..." And he proceeded to drag the brush in a straight line down the sternum excruciatingly slow and Tyler could feel the light brush of those fine hair, it felt delightful on his skin.

Troye dropped the flat brush gently back onto the fabric while he strummed his finger across the sturdy handles of those brushes until he came to the next one that he wanted to show Tyler. Tyler was laying still underneath Troye, trying to even out his breathing as to not show how it excited him at this unexpected turn of events. Feeling more in control, he shot his eyes up to meet Troye's and quickly felt the control began to crumble at the edge. Troye was now holding a different kind of brush, this time, the hair of the bristles was spread more widely than the flat brush.

"This one, you can probably guessed it, is called the fan brush. The fanned bristle will cover more areas and it is very good for smoothing those hard edges that were created by the flat brush. You can just flick your wrist around to blend it, creating a feathery effect." Tyler's breathing hitched as Troye pressed the fanned hair onto the side of his neck, dusting his skin with soft feathery strokes that resembled blending and smoothing. Tyler moaned and clamped his eyes shut when the brush touched his nipple, taut and sensitive with just a few teasing of the brush. He relished in the sensation that the soft hairs were creating but he was deprived of it too quickly. He opened his eyes just in time to see Troye smiling down at him.

"Is the lesson boring you, detective? What do you think of it so far? Good?" Troye teased with a with a naughty glint in his eyes.

"Yes, yes. It's good. Flat brush for hard egdes and fan brush to smooth it out. Got it." Tyler replied in a hurry and exhaled when Troye's intense gaze left him to choose his next brush. Tyler waiting both patiently and impatiently.

"And this one, it's called the angular flat. Well, it's almost similar to flat but with angled hairs at the end." Troye pressed angled brush over the curve of Tyler's firm chest and swiped it to his side, the abruptness made Tyler gasped. "It's good for curved strokes and filling up corners and reach small areas that the flat brush can't."

At this point Tyler's body was so hot, his heart was beating aggressively against his rib and he was panting for breaths. His hand was clenched tightly as they lay on the bed on his sides and gripping the covers for dear life, wondering how much more of Troye's teasing he can endure before he finally loses his mind.

"Then, my favorite one a of all, the round brush." Tyler tried to take in the shape of the brush and he couldn't see why it's his favorite. To Tyler, it was an awfully common brush that was rounded at the tip. But _fuck_ he very much like to know what that brush would do to his body.

"The rounded tip is for controlled washes, and filling in small areas. It is commonly used when sketching and outlining, you know, for detailed work." Troye brushed the tip along the lines of his stomach, dipped lightly into his belly button before flicking it along his happy trail down to the edge of his sweat pants. Troye leaned down as near as he can with the brush still pressed on Tyler's lower stomach, he said his next words in a whisper. "It is my favorite because of it's versatility. It can create thin lines as well as thick lines, because even though it is thin at the tip, it _becomes wider the more it is pressed down."_

And that was as far as Tyler's control went. His hands shot up to grab Troye's arm and flipped them over. With their position reversed, Troye was now trapped underneath him and their chests heaving against each other. Tyler bore his eyes into Troye's and see the mischief shimmering in the heart of those gorgeous blue.

"I didn't know learning about paintbrushes can be so... _fun_. You're quite a good teacher for a pesky little street rat." Tyler said while his eyes unable to focus, darting from Troye's eyes to his flushed cheeks then to his agape mouth and then back to his sapphire eyes.

Troye smirked and purred. "Hmm, detective... If I didn't know better, I'd think there's a compliment hidden somewhere in there."

Hearing his own words being repeated back to him was all too arousing and Tyler felt the heat of Troye's hardening length pressing against his own when he grind their lower bodies together. Troye let out a soft gasp followed by a moan, but the moan was quickly swallowed by Tyler when he crushed his lips on Troye's and kiss him into the mattress.

That was the last of the lesson in art and culture for the day. It was an eye opening experience for Tyler but he quickly realized that when it comes to Troye, he'd very much prefer another form of education which involved less words, more action and evidently much louder in vocal. They were both doing quite well at the moment, both were very well educated on the subject of each other's body. It's only natural that they do, given the amount of time they have been revising with each other. So, each hitched gasps and each alluring moans were  their sweet accomplishments and gold stars on their report cards.

Those paintbrushes that were thrown on the bed had been gradually pushed over the edge. Neither of them had minded that at all, not when they were more focus on other subject that was more appealing than paintbrushes. And so they fall, laying at the bottom of the bed, cluttered and disarray, and promptly forgotten.


	9. nine

Tyler had long decided that he liked having Troye on all fours the best when they have sex. It was a little common, judging by the history of unconventional sex position that he and Troye had experimented on, but there's something about having Troye on his hands and knees that appealed greatly to Tyler.

Maybe Tyler liked the view when he fucked Troye from behind. He liked to look at those lean back covered in a thin layer of sweat, arched and causing the dip along his spine to deepen. He liked to run his fingers along the dip, feeling the skin glides smoothly under the pad of his fingers to those sexy dimples on his lower back. He liked it when Troye make those little noises that sounded like purrs when he thumbed and kissed those dimples lightly.

Then there was this control he had that made his blood soared so hotly through his body. Having Troye in that position, especially with his ass propped and served up to Tyler, he was able to control everything that went into his thrusts. The strength he used, whether he moved slow and long or hard and fast into Troye's scorching heat, or how he can shift his hips to get the angle that he wanted, determining the sounds that Troye makes, either whining impatiently or screaming his pleasure. But ultimately, Tyler liked the view of his cock easing in and out of Troye's ass, watching the stretched entrance enveloping his throbbing cock inch by inch until it disappeared entirely into that hot vise.

So, sex with Troye is amazing. He is the perfect lover; passionate, adventurous, raw to the core and most importantly, Troye is pliant and had molded his body to accommodate all of their bedroom escapades, or in their case, sex-capades.

Just like how Tyler was bucking his hips in short thrusts right now, his actions would be well complimented with delicious hitched moans from Troye. When Tyler paused with his cock buried wholely, Troye would writhe and clench his inner muscles, squeezing and teasing him. Then when Tyler increased his speed, pulling his cock half way out and slammed back into Troye again and again, Troye took it like he was meant to be, and his increasing loud cries together with the building pressure in Tyler's balls made Tyler feel the earth had gradually stopped turning, his focus drew in to the pleasure point that was brewing so rapidly in his cock.

"Oh, fuck yes, baby. You feel so good, it's so incredible! Like your body is made for me, baby. How do you like my cock slamming into you?"

Troye groaned into the mattress as Tyler's words sent his body trembling. His arms had given out under him and he was now resting his head on the bed and his ass propped up with Tyler's help. Tyler's thrusts was now long and hard, hips moving in a circular motion before pounding back into the spot that would make Troye boneless if he wasn't already. "Hh _hnnmmdaddyyy_..."

"Tell me, baby. Does it feel good for you too? I wanna hear you say it."

"G-good, s-so good, daddy. I- I- you- daddy you feel so.. -a _ahhhfuck_!" Troye had ultimately lost his words when Tyler thrusts in particularly hard and it hit squarely on his prostate.

"You like it when I do that, don't you? Feels good, doesn't it, baby?"

"Y-yess, yes, _fuck_. You're so big, daddy. Oh god, yes _yess_! D-don't stop, daddy."

Tyler would have snickered if he wasn't so near to the edge himself. But listening to Troye's desperate pleas when he was delirious in his own pleasure was almost as arousing as watching him cum. The only thing that Tyler didn't like about being in this position was that he can't see Troye's face getting all scrunched up and the rise of those pink blush starting from his chest to his neck and finally coloring his cheeks when he finally reached his peak. Just then, Tyler pulled out and jesusfuckingchrist that needy whine that spilled from Troye's mouth when he pulled out almost did him in. Very quickly, he flipped Troye onto his back and plunged his cock back in, earning a loud moan that echoed through Tyler's room. He continued thrusting into Troye's ass, increasing his speed and alternating his trusting pattern, fucking Troye into sweet oblivion. Tyler swatted the hand that crept up to the abandoned cock, straining against Troye's taut stomach and dripping wet with precum for a while now, and heard a desperate sob from Troye.

"Please, daddy.. I need to cum.."

"No, baby. You're not gonna touch your cock. I know you're able to cum with just me fucking you." Tyler said in between rapid breaths and heard Troye moaned so lewdly when he doubled his strength.

Troye heeded his words and gripped the cover on both sides of his hips so tightly and arched his back to meet with Tyler's thrusts. With every thrust, Troye canted his hips upwards to meet Tyler's and his action had brought their lower bodies that much closer. The angle had allowed Tyler to thrust that much deeper into Troye and that much accurate too. It was exactly what Troye needed to set of a wave of sparks that shocked his raw nerves, creating thundering pleasure across the length of his body towards his aching cock. His vision turned white as his orgasm being torn from his body through his cock, spilling ribbons after ribbons of white cum onto his sweaty stomach. A loud cry sounded across the room and Troye's body spasmed uncontrollably on the bed, Tyler didn't have a choice but to follow Troye onto the train that led them to the abyss of suffocating bliss. Tyler cummed with the intensity that deafened him momentarily and all he could hear was the blood ringing loudly in his ears. He swam in the pulsing pleasure for a while before pulling out his cock and immediately replaced it with two fingers.

" _Aahhhh_ , daddy!" Troye sobbed when Tyler clasped his other hand around Troye's overly sensitive length and began stroking it while his fingers pumped in and out of his cum-filled ass.

"Daddy, d _addddddy_.. I- I can't.. It's too sensitive.."

" _Fuck_. You're so fucking sexy. Come on, baby. I know you can. Cum for daddy again." And Tyler stroked Troye's cock, gently and slowly increasing in pace and strength, coating it with his own cum and willing it to fill up again. With a few twisting and determined stroking later, Tyler smirked with amazement when he felt the beautiful cock in his hand had gradually hardened again. He thoroughly enjoyed the noises that he was coaxing out of Troye, and used it as a guidance for when he pumped his fingers into Troye's slippery ass, in sync with the other hand jerking Troye's sensitive length.

"H _hnnnggaaahhh_! Oh fuck, _yess_! Harder, daddy! Oh, shit.. I- I-..."

"You what, baby? Tell me."

"I- _nnnghhhh_ \- I'm gonna be a good boy and cum for daddy!" Troye half sobbed, half moaned, unable to determine if he was still alive when he was drowning in the intense pleasure that Tyler was giving him. Just when Troye bucked his hips up involuntarily, Tyler curled his fingers and jammed them over the soft pad of nerves in Troye's ass and all hell break loose.

Troye was cumming again in just a couple of minutes apart from his previous one and he was screaming himself raw. Tyler let go of the pulsing length and his fingers couldn't help but slipped out when Troye was trashing so violently on the bed. Tears mixed with droplets of sweats streaked down Troye's cheek and the expression on his face was of someone properly ravished, flushed and drowning in ecstasy so deep, he would have easily slip into a pleasure coma.

Tyler can't stop himself from diving in and free those plump lips from captivity and kiss Troye so passionately to help Troye ease out the remaining of his explosive climax. Troye reciprocated as best as his exhausted body allowed and he whimpered weakly when Tyler's softening cock brushed against his own.

"You're such a good boy." Tyler praised him when he pulled back for air. "You did so well, baby. You cummed so beautifully."

Troye hummed, still unable to put words into sentences. Tyler brushed aside those curls plastered on Troye's damped forehead as a sweet gesture before he laid down next Troye and pulled the covers over their bodies. His hands snaked under the cover over to Troye's waist and pulled him closer to Tyler, his back to Tyler's front. Troye let out a another hum followed by a content sigh when Tyler draped his arm around his waist and dropped a kiss at the nape of Troye's neck.

"Sleep, baby." Tyler whispered and Troye purred. Tyler felt his breathing gradually slowed down to an even pace and only when he was certain that Troye had fallen asleep, he followed suit.

***

The next morning when Tyler woke up, he was a little confused when he didn't feel the warmth of Troye's body against his, didn't feel the soft strands of Troye's hair tickling his nose when he inhaled. In any time, Troye would still be sleeping soundly in his arms when he woke. It didn't matter what position they slept in the night before, Troye would always, _always_ , ended up curled to his side with his head nuzzled comfortably into the nook in between Tyler's neck and shoulder. Tyler teased him about being needy that one time, Troye was more than defensive and quickly pounced on him to make him take his words back with a more sexual approach. After a round of the most intense blowjob ever, Tyler had finally caved and promised to never mention anything as preposterous as his previous statement. Jolly good. But even after, Troye's sleeping pattern stayed the same and it pleased Tyler more than it should, but he wouldn't dare to tease him about it again and just accepted it.

And so that kind of explained Tyler's confusion, apart from the fact that his brain was still half asleep. He strained his ears, expecting to hear water running from the ensuite bathroom but instead they picked up another sound coming through the slightly ajar door of his bedroom. His eyebrows set into a straight line into a big frown when he heard the sound coming from his kitchen, the unmistakable sound of pans clattering against his stove top was telling him that Troye was making a mess of his kitchen. The next _clang_ was loud, followed by a string of profanities that would have sounded sexy in the bedroom but it would have been extremely disastrous coming from a kitchen.

Tyler sprung out from his bed and quickly grabbed a hold of his sweatpants draped on the armrest of the chair and put it on before heading out to see the damage Troye had done to his kitchen, or worse his house. What he saw was what he would have expected from the noises that he heard before; a huge mess that would take hours, at least, to clean up. It was close to a war zone; spilled milk dripping off the edge of the table, runny raw eggs and their shells laid atop the table beside of the milk carton and flour splattered across the table and down the floor. He looked over to Troye and he almost chuckled out loud.

As bad as the state of his kitchen was in, Troye was worse. His once brown hair was now white, his face was dabbed here and there with dried up batter and the white t-shirt he had on was stained heavily with melted butter in the shape of his hand print. Tyler watched on and predicted that things would only get worse. Just as the thought crossed his mind, bursts of smokes risen from whatever Troye was cooking in the pan. He muttered an 'oh shit' and tried to save whatever bits that was salvageable using the spatula. Clumsily.

Judging by how good Troye is with his paintbrushes, Tyler would think that a spatula wouldn't be as threatening to Troye as it did. But boy, watching Troye fumbling about with the spatula was very much entertaining as well as refreshing. Mostly it appeased Tyler knowing that there is indeed a different side of Troye beside the evasive, closed-up sex-crazed person. Tyler stood there and wondered in earnest, if many have had the chance to witness this side of Troye or it was reserved to those few that Troye had felt comfortable enough to let his guard down, even if it was because he thought no one's around. Regardless, the notion still made Tyler happy and he thought he should make his presence known before Troye went ahead and burn his apartment down.

"Are you trying to burn down my apartment?" Tyler said as much.

"Oh fuck! Shit! Fuck! Ow!" Troye was startled and accidentally knocked over the bowl of batter next to the stove and it tumbled on the floor and hit him on his toes.

"Oh damnit! Look what you've made me do? It took me thirty minutes just to get the right consistency and now it's not even useable anymore!" Troye continued as he waved his hand at the floor, drenched in what Tyler assumed to be pancake batter.

Tyler supressed a chuckle as he walked over to Troye, carefully avoiding the batter on the floor to turn off the stove. He took a quick peek into the pan only to see a blob of black mass that was burnt beyond recognition. He said a quick prayer to the god that he'd forgot existed most of the time that he had unintentionally spooked Troye into spilling the whole batter onto the floor. "What _I_ have made _you_ do? All I did was ask you a valid question after seeing the state my kitchen was in. What the hell are you doing?"

"I was _cooking_ , detective. Thought that bit was obvious." Troye said in a huff and the air expelled from his mouth blew the specks of flour off his curly fringe and they went floating in the air. "How long have you been standing there anyway?"

"Long enough to see you panicking and trying to poke holes into the frying pan using the spatula."

"What? I did not pa-"

"And to be honest it was quite cute, despite the outcome."

"Oh no you- I'm not cu-"

"You're the expert when it comes to painting and stuff, but cooking is my thing, _sweetheart_."

"Are you gonna keep cutting me off or are you gonna let me finish my sentence at some point?" Troye asked annoyingly and Tyler held up two hands in mock surrender.

"Firstly, do not call me sweetheart. That is not a name I want to associate myself with. I may have a huge sweet tooth but you don't see me calling you pickle pie or sodium queen. Secondly, cute isn't a compliment most people think it is. Cute just meant _ugly but_ _adorable_ , and it's safe to say that you find me miles away from ugly, _irresistible_ , I believe, is what you used to describe me when you're balls' deep in me. And lastly, I did not panic. I was just trying to finish cooking everything before you wake. The pancakes was the last of it and now you'll just have to eat your breakfast without any carbs."

Tyler grinned as he looked over to the two plates filled with (badly) scrambled eggs, bacon and slices of tomatoes and next to the plates are two steaming cup of coffee. At least the coffee looked promising. Tyler thought before he reached out with one hand to pull Troye closer and Troye let him. He tilted Troye's head and their eyes met, Tyler lingered there for a while before catching the pouty lips in a kiss. Tyler's heart soared when Troye responded to the kiss, opening his mouth to allow entrance and they kissed soundly against the stove for a couple of minutes. Tyler backed away from the kiss before it turned urgent and gestured for Troye to sit down at the kitchen table. He cleaned up some of the mess that Troye had made just so he could start a new batch of pancake batter for them. Tyler tried not to gloat when he'd finished cooking a stack of fresh pancakes in under twenty minutes and brought it to the table where Troye was waiting and sat down in front of him.

"Now our breakfast is complete." Tyler announced and Troye rolled his eyes at him before popping a piece of scrambled egg into his mouth. Tyler said nothing about how the corner of those plump lips had quirked up, indicating he was quite pleased with how everything turned out.

They ate and they chatted, mostly about how Caspar had been such an annoying pest, more than he usually is lately. He had been insistently pestering Troye to join him in a yoga class that is made mandatory for Caspar by his girlfriend. It was an exercise of endurance and flexibility, as Caspar's girlfriend suggested and Caspar couldn't turn down any opportunity to improve the quality of their sex life. It's like he was trying to keep score of who had a better orgasm between him and Troye. It's childish and totally pointless, because at the end of the day Troye will always be the victor, but that's how their friendship worked.

But Caspar being Caspar, contradicted himself by asking Troye to join him. He outright refused, multiple times, saying that he'd rather not waste his precious time turning himself into a pretzel, lest he had, he would have learn a few tricks himself and outdo whatever Caspar had learnt from the class. But Caspar was desperate and desperate man calls for desperate measure. He felt like a fresh meat in a class that consists mostly of older women and those cougars were eyeing him like the last supper. He had thought that between the two of them, Troye would dominate all of the cougars' attention and leave him be. He wouldn't be wrong.

"Caspar don't stand a chance with those cougars. They are viscous. You ought to help him out." Tyler said whilst cleaning up the empty plates to place them in the sink.

"Ha! That'll teach him a lesson. It's always entertaining to see him stew for a bit." Troye replied.

Tyler rinsed the grease off of the dirty dishes and started sponging them with soap water. "You know, I'll never understand the kind of dynamic you two have."

Troye shrugged his shoulders lightly. "Honestly, I don't either. But it sure is very different from what you and Marcus have. Guess that little crush you have on him went on for quite a while, eh?" Troye teased.

Tyler turned his head to glare at him while his hands were elbow deep in the sink, rinsing off the soap. "Shut up. It's not like that. If anything it's more like an admiration than a crush. He'd saved my ass more times than I could count." Tyler didn't have time to think why he felt the need to clarify his feelings for the Brit to Troye.

"From what you've told me, you saved his ass pretty much all the time too. I'm starting to make the connection now. The core foundation of your relationship was built with your mutual love for asses right? In that case, hey, maybe Marcus and I can hit it off pretty well too." Troye grinned cheekily.

"I really doubt it but you can ask him for yourself."

"My, my. I think I will. If my memory serves me right, that piece of ass is just so... juicy."

"Okay. I guess now would be as good as any time. Wait here, I have something I wanna show you." Tyler dried his hands on a clean cloth before he walked over to the living room, his bare feet tapped away on the wooden floor. He tapped back into the kitchen in less than fifteen seconds and placed a blue envelope on the table in front of Troye.

Troye looked down to the envelope and looked back up at Tyler questioningly. "What's this?"

"Your ticket to see that juicy ass that you've been wanting to see again." Tyler fired back quickly.

"Hmmmm, fess up, detective. Have you been secretly tracking drarry on tumblr all these times that you think portkeys really do exist?"

"I'm pretty sure you're still speaking English but I don't think I've ever come across a more confusing sentence in my entire life. What the fuck is drarry? And what the fuck is tumblr?"

Troye gasped mockingly. "Oh no, your age is showing. Quick, let's fuck the old out of you before it's too late!"

"I don't think that's how it works, Jesus Christ Sivan! And also six years is not exactly Nile river."

"It is if you don't know tumblr. Besides if you're using the river as a metaphor to demonstrate our age difference, I think you should use The Amazon River. It's the _widest_ river in the world." Troye duck behind his coffee cup when Tyler tried to flick his finger on Troye's forehead. "Wait, detective. Do you still have an ICQ account?"

Tyler willed his blush away and cleared his throat. "Oh shush! Anyway, it's uhh- It's an invitation to the 57th Annual Metropolitan New York Ball thrown by the Mayor and all of the precinct in the city were invited. And as you well know, I work in one of those said precinct and so naturally I was invited too."

"Uh-huh, and you need an arm candy to go with you, right? Thanks, but no thanks. Those stuck up balls for the rich and famous are extremely boring and I already feel drowsy hearing you talking about it just now."

"I just told you all the precincts in the city are invited, which means there will be a lot of cops there. I don't know if I should be worried that you seemed more put off by the idea of the ball being grand and boring for you than being in a room full of cops that may have recognise you from our database."

Troye scowled and raised an eyebrow at him.

"Well, if you're so reluctant then I guess I should just get someone else to be my plus one. Though, I don't know if I could find anyone that would explain the works of Eli Gunter to me this close to the ball.."

"What? Eli Gunter as in the Eli Gunter who had just received "The Most Aspiring Work of Abstract" by The Aesthetica Art Prize 2016?"

"Hmm, maybe. Do you know another Eli Gunter that would be invited by the Mayor himself to display his exclusive works at the grand ball?"

"YesokayIwillbeyourarmcandyjusttellmethewhenandwhere."

"What? Is there a 'please' in there? I don't think I quite hear you."

Troye clasped in hand together in a ball and placed them under his chin, lips pulled into a sweet smile and eyes blinking a few times. "Please, my handsome little pickle pie?"

Tyler laughed out loud at Troye's antic and decided to tease him a little while longer. He retrieved the envelope from the table and walked out the kitchen without giving Troye any form of reply. Although both of them knew that it was pretty much a done deal, it still didn't stop Troye from trailing behind Tyler and continue his shameless grovelling, until at one point he'd even promised to attend the the yoga class that he loathed so much. And like Troye had once mentioned, he is very much the man of his words. But what he didn't know was, so is Tyler.


	10. ten

The sun was setting in the fair horizon, the dimming golden light turning a zesty orange, piercing stubbornly through the thick white clouds into the loft. The shadow on the floor changed shape at the bottom of Troye's shoes as he strutted in front of the tall mirror, and the rustling sound of his dress pants filling the otherwise quiet loft. He placed the long strip of black bow tie on a small round table next to the mirror and looked at the dark shading on his face casted by the setting light of the sun.

His index fingers met at the back of his neck as they descended down to the center of his shirt collar. They glided smoothly to the front, tracing the bone of the collar until they reached the triangles of the wing tips and fasten the button just below his Adam's apple. The silk of his shirt felt really soft, it was exquisitely gentle on his skin. With a light flip, he turned the wing tips up before retrieving the black bow tie and draped it around his neck, letting the two ends hang from each side of his neck, left side shorter.

He remembered it like it was yesterday, the careful instructions being forced upon him when he was just a boy, on how to tie a good bow tie.

_You have to make sure to adjust the length accordingly to the circumference of your neck, boy, or else you're gonna look like a silly penguin. Always start with the left tail shorter. Cross the right tail over and up through the neck loop. Then you fold the short tail into the shape of the bow and bring the long tail to the front and wrapped around it. You see this loop you created at the back? Pinch the long tail and push it through the loop and then it's done. It's that easy._

It seemed that what they say about riding a bicycle is true, Troye had the tie turned into a pristine little bow in under a minute as he replayed the verbal instructions in his head. He made the final adjustment by grabbing the two bow ends with his thumbs and index fingers, pulled and tugged gently to balance the shape on both sides before strapping them perfectly in place. Satisfied with how the bow looked, he glanced at the image before him, watching his reflective self in the mirror and immediately felt a sense of nostalgia swept through him like cold breeze. He held his breath as he kept his eyes locked on his face, jaw tensed as he struggled to keep his repressed memory from bursting its way out to the conscious part of his brain.

He studied the person in the mirror and he almost could have forgotten who this person is or who he used to be. _Almost_. Dressing up in this formal wear, his stance turned rigid by default; his body stood taller, his shoulders pulled further back, straighten and squared. His eyes cold as ice, his jaw tighten and the angle it created could cut through inches of glass with a single touch. It felt like meeting an old friend that you haven't seen for a long time, whom their faces you vaguely remembers anymore, but due to the sheer amount of time you've acquainted yourself with them, just one look and all memories came rushing back like those time in between meant nothing. Familiar but reluctant. Strangely remorseful. Troye took a deep breath and exhaled loudly, wishing it will shrug those memories away.

He turned sideways to shift his gaze on the bed whilst his left hand began doing the cuff link on his right wrist. "Casp, I won't be home until the day after tomorrow. Just try not to die before Taylor comes by later tonight. You can do that for a couple more hours, right? Not dying? Although, I haven't heard of anyone dying so abruptly from a cold."

" _Mmmhmmmmhmmpph mmmphh..._ " Caspar said into the pillow where he dived his head in.

"Great. Now you're actively trying to die by suffocation. I can't hear you when you stick your face into that pillow, you twat."

Caspar turned his head to lay his cheek on the fluffy pillow instead. "I said, why do you insist on using confusing words like 'the day after tomorrow' when you can very easily just tell me you'll be back on _Sunday_?"

Troye rolled his eyes as he shook his head in defeat, his properly twirled curls bounced lightly on his forehead. "I guess it's too much for your flu-addled brain to understand simple English like that."

"It's not my fault that you speak terribly weird Australian slang, bruh."

"What the-? That wasn't even an Australian term or anything like that!"

"Doesn't make it any less confusing!" Caspar rolled his eyes the best way he knows how when laying on his front with half of his face buried in the pillow. He cleared his throat when his phelgm got caught in his throat before he spoke again, his voice still nasally. "Bruh, seriously. I don't think this is one of your finest idea. Are you sure you want to be in the same room with all the police force of New York City?"

"It's gonna be fine. Besides he invited me to be his plus one. How could I say no?"

"Don't even play that with me. I know you're more than capable to saying 'no' when it suits you."

Troye let out a sigh and sauntered over to where the tux was hanging and tugged it off its hanger. "Caspar, I know I may not find a lot but it's the best thing I've got right now, okay? It's definitely much better than getting thrown in the jail overnight and trying to slip my way into their system to search for those files. I did that plenty of times before but they didn't work out so well, did they?" He slipped his arms into the sleeves and straighten the lapels against his chest.

"But it has been almost two years, bruh. Don't you think if-"

"I don't care if it's two or twenty years, Casp!" Troye lashed out and instantly regretted it. He collected himself again and fasten the buttons on the flap of the tux, keeping it smart and perfect.

"Okay! Okay! I just have a bad feeling about this, bruh. _Bad feeling._ "

"Don't worry. I have my knight in shining armour with me throughout the night if anything goes wrong."

"Oh, I sure hope your knight would still sweep you off your feet when he knows what you're up to."

"Just make sure he doesn't find out and we will be fine, won't we?" Troye said and winked at Caspar, only to see Caspar rolling his half-shut eyes like an utterly sassy cat. The nerve of him.

***

By his second flute of champagne, Troye had began to shake off the nerves that have been pulling on his insides. The ball was every bit the pretentious event that he thought it would be and he felt miles away from adequate. The ornate chandeliers were sparkling so brightly as they hung from the high ceiling and the room was so huge, it looked as though it stretched beyond infinity. As huge as the room was, Troye still think it was not huge enough for him to breathe properly.

Troye watched the crowd as it grew bigger and the muffled murmurs grew louder. He tilted the flute in his hand, sipping the bubbly and skimmed his eyes over the rim. It's always the same. Seas of blacks tuxedos poured into the room and it was filling out the enormous space like a rapid stream. Among those black were their extravagant companions, who always anticipate for a night like this so that they can finally make good use of their bold jewelleries and avant-garde dresses. Troye chuckled into the flute and fought the urge to shake his head at them.

There used to be a time when he'd appreciate the beauty of it all, enjoy the fundamentality of such gala to its barest form. That time, very much like his innocence and naivety, had long passed.

Just then, a nudge to his elbow halted the downhill escalation of his thought and he turned to see two men in impeccably fitting tuxedos standing in front of him. It didn't take long for him to tell his date apart from the other man. The mask he had on was impossible to miss, since it was one of Troye's best creation. After he had not-so-shamefully accepted Tyler's invitation to be his plus one, Tyler had told him that they would need to dress up accordingly to the dress code that came along with the invitation card.

_"You could have told me it's a birthday party of a five year old. An animal-themed masquerade? Really?"_

_"Hey, I didn't orchestrate the ball. If you have any qualms with the theme they are going for this year, take it to their planner."_

_"You know that this means I'll have to custom make the masks for the both of us, right? Those Walmart stuff are atrociously inadequate to be in the same room as Eli Gunter. Okay, wait. Fuck! When is the ball? Do we even have enough time? Oh no, I gotta go back to the loft and get Caspar. Most of the materials need to be pre-ordered and his girlfriend may know some people in the fashion industry and-"_

_"Well, I wouldn't mind the Walmart stu-"_

_"Don't you dare finish that sentence! There won't be any Walmart masquerade mask if you're gonna be my arm candy-..."_

_"Oh, so now_ I'm _your arm candy?"_

_"...-and I can't possibly be seen putting those unoriginal piece of garbage on me when I'll be introducing myself to Eli Gunter! Nope. Definitely not-..."_

_"Hey, look! A spaceship has landed!"_

_"...-and you bet your ass our masks are gonna be the best ones out there and those Walmart stuff can suck my ass-..."_

_"Annnnnnd you're not listening to a word I say."_

_"...-okay, can't stay! Gotta go! Bye!"_

It took Troye two days to assemble all the materials and another three to make the masks; a majestic snow white owl and an ethereal fox. It wasn't intentional, and it was after Troye have almost completed making them that he realised the animals that they've chosen were depicting, in Troye's opinion, an underrated fable about an owl and a fox. It tells a tale about a lone owl and a fox met one day while they were both hunting a hopping bunny. One chasing its prey in high up in the air and the other one prowling on land. Rather than fighting each other and risk the escape of their meal, they both worked together and cornered the bunny into a bush and they made quick acquaintances after, despite their differences. 

Troye liked that the fable kind of resembled the dynamic of Tyler and himself.

So he poured all his effort into creating the best masquerade masks anyone has ever seen, making sure the details he put into them were as original as they can be. Troye was immensely satisfied when he finally finished their masks; they were elegant, the details were subtle but they were interestingly beautiful. He made sure the masks will compliment their faces; accentuate the shape of their eyes, highlighting their cheekbones and still covered enough area to exude an aura of mystery. And judging by the stunned looks and subtle sideways glances that they have been getting since they arrived, it was safe to say that Troye had succeeded in what he put himself to do.

"May I introduce, my utterly high maintenance and exasperating partner-in-crime, Marcus Butler." Tyler started as his hand gestured to the other man in a bear mask.

"Mate, why are you actively trying to make me look bad in front of your date?" Marcus scowled at Tyler, then turned to offer Troye a handshake. "Hello, I'm Marcus. Pardon my rude partner but I guess you've already gotten used to the pompous ass that he is."

Troye chuckled before grasping Marcus's hand and gave it a firm shake. "Troye. Nice to meet you, Marcus. I've heard so much about you."

"Really? And here I thought he's not in a habit of speaking ill of someone behind their backs. And you'd think he would be good at keeping things to himself, since he had never once mentioned to me that he's dating someone until he told me he'll be bringing a date that's not one of his family members."

"Fuck off, Marcus. It's just that one time." Tyler intercepted in a low growl and Marcus grinned.

"Well, yeah. Only because Jackie had been turning your invitation down and pushing you to get a _real_ date."

Troye watched, amused by the banter that they had going on, the familiarity put him at ease. "Oh, don't you worry, Marcus. It's nothing bad. Most of the time he just couldn't stop waxing rhapsodic about your ass."

That earned a glare from Tyler and Troye just shot him a naughty smirk. "And oh, we're not exactly dating. I'm nothing more than a convenience for him. Tyler brought me along to help him fend off any unwanted suitors. It's such a task, you see, being so handsome and desirable. Those men can hardly resist him."

Marcus laughed heartily at Troye's words and said, "I like you, Troye. And not because of that beautiful accent. What is it? New Zealand?"

"Close. Australian." Troye replied, a smile plastered on his face.

Tyler just let out a defeated sigh and put his hand out on Troye's waist to bring him closer to his side. They continued their light conversation for a few moments before Tyler had to resort to threats to get Marcus to shut up about some of the embarrassing incidents that happened throughout their partnership. Troye just laughed and agreed to most of what Marcus said, and he added some of his own embarrassing stories of Tyler just to further rile him up. And as expected, they did. Even though his face was half covered by the masquerade mask, Troye could still see the blush spreading from his neck to his face. It was quite endearing to see his face flush a million shades of red while he tried to act as though he hadn't been affected by their teasing.

Troye had a feeling that Marcus was about to bring out the big guns when Tyler suddenly excused himself and left the the two of them to continue dredging his dignity in the proverbial mud. It was all in good fun, a rather special kind of bonding and Troye have to admit, he was starting to enjoy himself.

"So, Troye. How did you two know each other?" Marcus asked nonchalantly but the curiosity in his voice seeped through.

Troye straighten his back and put on a grin. "Oh, how could he have robbed you of the story of the day we met?" The truth was Troye wasn't at all surprised by it but he needn't show it to Marcus.

"Well, I wasn't kidding when I said that Tyler has been very secretive about who he dates. He just has this idea of protecting those he loves and cares about. And judging by how he haven't slipped even a tiny bit about you until today, I guess things are getting pretty serious?"

Troye snorted. "I think you've mistaken. Tyler and I, we're nothing like that. We're friends at best, but there's no romance involved, whatsoever."

Marcus's skeptism persisted, eyebrows drawn into a frown. "Hmm, I beg to differ. You didn't see the way he looked at you when he thought no one notices."

Troye was taken aback by Marcus's words and before he could form a semi-convincing reply, Marcus came to stand closer to him and continued.

"I have known Tyler for a long time and he was all work and no play; uptight, moping around a lot and not much of a life. But I saw some changes in him. I couldn't be sure what made him this way but seeing you with him tonight, it became obvious to me."

It was Troye's turn to frown. "Obvious?"

"That _you've_ changed him, you made him happy. Troye, I know we've only met tonight, but please don't take this any other way than what it actually is; a friendly warning. Tyler's a great guy and he's like a brother to me. He cares about you a whole lot and I can see that he's already in too deep. But if you do anything intentionally to hurt him..."

Marcus let his words hang and Troye shifted his weight from his left to his right leg. He took the flute in hand and empty it in a gulp, hoping the champagne will help wash away the thick lump he felt in his throat. He lowered his flute and put on a smile that he'd mastered when emotions needed to be concealed.

"You put too much weight in his feelings towards me, Marcus. I assure you there's really not much I can do that would hurt him emotionally. We're as casual as it gets but I'll be sure to keep him as happy as I can. There's nothing a blowjob or two can't do." Troye said and winked slyly at Marcus, who in turned shook his head and blushed slightly at his blunt words.

Troye knew that was the end of their confrontational conversation when he spotted the white owl sauntering back to them, with two freshly filled flutes in hand. Tyler offered one to him and Troye set the empty one on a nearby table before grabbing it from Tyler's hand. Marcus excused himself and went about to look for his own date, leaving them to mingle with the crowd by themselves. Troye managed to get into the swing of it easily, he knew exactly how to behave, what to say and how to make people feel good about themselves. In other words, Troye was killing it.

Just when he thought they would end this night on a high note, Troye heard a voice that instantly turned his blood cold. The voice he'd never thought he'd hear again, much less in a function such as this. He heard it only once, but once was all it took to brand it permanently into his brain. He turned towards the voice, a deep rumbling of laughter spilled from the mouth that's half hidden under his mask.

"Hey detective, who's that under the lion mask?" Troye asked.

Tyler looked over to where Troye was pointing, his face soften as he recognised who Troye was talking about. "Oh, of course. Come on, I'll introduce you to him."

Tyler gestured for them to go the man with the lion mask. He paused for two seconds, heart pounding, his hand gripping the neck of the flute tightly. He can feel the heat emanating from Tyler's hand on the small of his back, waiting for him to move. He can't help it, he has to know. So, he moved.

***

Troye was drowning. He was swimming in a drunken sea of undefinable pleasure that he couldn't tell up from down. His alcohol-addled brain was useless, words seemed to have lost their meanings and he couldn't make sense of even the littlest things. His heart was pounding violently in his chest, breaths hitched in his throat as Tyler kept littering open-mouthed kisses down his neck.

He couldn't determine during when his bow tie had slid off his neck, or when the buttons on his shirts had come undone. But it all seemed trivial when all that does was allowing him more pleasure in the dimly lit hallway. Tyler's kisses grew more intense, his hand tangled up in Troye's hair and tugged backwards, exposing more areas of skin to him. They were suffocating, Tyler's kisses, and he seemed awfully determined to mark every inch of Troye's neck with deep dark bruises. That thought alone made him feel so hot, even the coldness of the wall on his back couldn't stop his body from burning up from all the desire Tyler was coaxing out of him.

Troye was too raw from all the sensation befalling him at once; Tyler's mouth mauling him against the wall, his straying hands touching every part of his clothed body and his body jerked and bucked against his own, making him weak in the knees.

"Oh, baby. You looked absolutely stunning tonight." Tyler said during the few seconds when he came up for air. Then he quickly dove back in, fastening his mouth onto the other side of Troye's neck and nibbled the skin just above his pulse point. Low moans spilled through Troye's mouth as Tyler pressed their hips impossibly closer, grinding and locking Troye to the wall. He can feel the heat of Tyler's hardening length through the layers of fabric and moaned again when Tyler groped his ass and pushed their aching cocks together, creating friction after friction that sent jolting electricity through his body.

"Hmm, so gorgeous, baby. They tried to be subtle, but oh, I saw them. They were looking at you like they've never seen anything so beautiful in their life." Tyler said as his hands spread the shirt collar as far as it can go and dropped those suffocating kisses past his neck towards his collarbone.

Troye gasped aloud as Tyler pressed his wet tongue on the base of his neck, felt it dipped into the notch between his neck and collarbone before Tyler licked a wet line along his clavicle. Troye shivered when Tyler blew hot breaths over the area he had just licked and Troye bucked his hips forward in search for more friction.

"Mmm, detective. I have to say, I like you better when you're drunk." Troye said teasingly but his next breath was lost when Tyler moved his hand in between their lower bodies and cupped Troye's length in a squeeze. " _Oh_! Oh god, that feels good."

Tyler hummed at Troye's approval and detached his mouth from the collarbone that he's been sucking at, and crushed his mouth onto Troye's in a bruising kiss. He was not foreign to these kinds of kisses; all hard and characteristically messy. These kisses where the passion is in its rawest, he craved for them. He liked the feeling of wet tongue swirling with his, so soft and so hard at the same time, duelling and fighting for dominance. He also liked the pain inflicted when his lips were bitten until it could almost draw blood, gnashing and pulling at them with such intensity, it sent tingling sparks down his spine.

And drunk Tyler was almost everything Troye could have wished for. His kisses were more intense than they should be. He was kissing Troye bruisingly, rolling the plump lower lip in between his teeth, nibbling harshly and sucking so hard that he felt his lip throbbed when Tyler released it. At once, Tyler thrust his tongue across Troye's parted lips, delving deep into the hotness of his mouth and the bitter aftertaste from the champagne hit and lingered.

It was intoxicating. It was too much and yet not quite enough. Troye craved for more.

"I think we should continue this inside, detective. Unless you want me to bribe Pedro to delete the footage of me pulling my cock out and jerk off here?"

Tyler growled lowly and slammed Troye further up the wall. "Do it, baby. If that's what you want, I _don't fucking care_ if the whole building sees us. Let them watch, we'll give them a good show." Tyler lean in to kiss Troye again, his hands now fumbling with the belt and zipper, eager to get his hand on the said cock. Troye almost didn't stop him but he gripped Tyler's forearms tightly, delighted at how firm those biceps felt in his grasps, and flipped them over.

"Oh, I definitely like you better when you're drunk. But I think I'll have to take a rain check on that. Caspar will have my head for it if I ruin this tux." Troye said against Tyler's mouth and Tyler quickly caught his swelled lower lip and bit on it again.

"Mmmm, daddy wants to play rough tonight, huh? Come on, let's get inside and I promise to let daddy do whatever daddy wants with me."

Tyler stopped at once, his chest heaving, his eyes widen, irises too blown. Not giving any respond time, he hauled Troye over his shoulder like he weighed nothing more than a bag of dry leaves, stubbornly ignoring the surprised yelp and the half-hearted protest. Troye tried suppressing his giggling to no success, and those giggles turned into a gasp when he felt a spank landed on his ass cheek.

"Stop fidgeting, baby. I'm trying to get the key in." Tyler said and he spanked him again before hoisted him further up. With just two tries, Tyler managed to get it open and they couldn't get in any faster and shut the door behind them.

Troye was immediately knocked backwards against the door as soon as his feet touched the ground. He was rendered speechless and dazed as he watched Tyler sank to his knees in front of his bulge. Tyler's gaze was hungry, like a carnivore that have been deprived of meat. Not wanting to put too much thought on the metaphor being used, Troye shifted all his focus onto Tyler, just in time to see him undo the button and the zipper, tugging his pants loose and brought the dress pants and his briefs all the way down. Troye let out a sigh as his cock sprung free and bopped in front of Tyler's face, all too flushed and already dripping wet.

"Fuck, baby. You're already so hard. So beautiful."

Troye groaned loudly into the dark room as Tyler took the tapered head in his mouth, lapping and grazing his teeth at the slit of his cock and swirled his tongue around it, wanting to taste more of the dripping precum.

"And you taste so fucking good, baby. I just can't get enough."

One hand flew up to card the blonde hair through his fingers and another groped for the coat hook beside his head, clinging to both for support. There was a sharp intake of breath through his nose and mouth when Tyler suddenly took in more of his cock, inch by inch until his felt his sensitive head nudging the back of Tyler's throat.

"Fuck _yes_! Yes, suck my cock, daddy." Troye moaned.

Tyler's hands shot up to his waist to hold him still, just so he could control all the movement when he started to suck on the aroused cock. Between bopping up and down on his hardened length, teasing the head with the tip of his tongue and licking and sucking his balls, Troye was all kinds of inarticulate mess. He can feel that his orgasm was fast approaching, it was mounting as fast as a rolling snowball. And when Tyler's pace quicken, he felt the avalanche coming. It was getting closer and closer, and when he was finally at the edge, so ready to tumble over into the pit of bliss, he felt Tyler's hand shot up to grab at the base of his cock and squeezed, _hard_ , cutting the blood flow to his cock and his climax came to a screeching halt. The sudden fall from his rapidly mounting high made him see stars and he couldn't breathe.

"A _AAaahhhh daddy_! Shit! Oh, fuck! _Fuck_!" The sudden change of pressure was turning his brain into a mush, he can't quite comprehend what just happened. He tipped his head back against the door with a loud thud, breathing heavily and feeling a little light headed by the almost orgasm. "Fuck!"

When his breathing slowly returned to something resembling normal, only then Tyler released the death grip and began stroking leisurely on his aching cock again, until he was begging Tyler to go faster. To his surprise, Tyler did, his hand stroke him in a gradually increasing pace, up and down, squeezing and massaging, until he was once again lost in his own sea of pleasure. His knees were bucking, his body was so hot and his hips jerked involuntarily, fucking into Tyler's hand. The noises he was making should put the biggest slut to shame as he felt his high getting higher, his body wound up tighter than ever and was ever so ready to be pushed over to his blinding orgasm.

Then it happened again. He fell backwards into the sky, like being hurled out of a flying plane without a chute. He was desperately trying to cling onto the surge towards his climax but all he was grabbing at straws. He could feel every nerve on his body about ready to combust and yet he felt extremely bereft. It was like watching the fireworks without the sound, the experience was equally unfulfilling as it was frustrating.

He sobbed. This denial was slowly driving him over the brink of insanity. He wanted to yell, to get mad at Tyler but he also want nothing more than to continue to be the receiver of this sweet, gut wrenching torture.

He looked down and if it wasn't for the tight pressure on the base of his cock, he would have cum right then at the image before him. Tyler's tongue was pointy and pink, he dragged it to the base where his hand was and licked a long line along the underside until the tip of his throbbing cock. He shuddered and closed his eyes shut when Tyler swiped his tongue on the slit, over and over again before he dropped more featherlight kisses on every inch of his tapered head.

"Hh _nnnmmm_ , daddy.. I-... I'm-.."

Then, all sensation was gone. The warmth of Tyler's breath, the wetness of his tongue and the tight grip of his hand, they were all gone. The sudden deprivation of feels made him felt more exposed than ever. The walls were down and he should be afraid that Tyler could see through to him, but he as too wound up to care. He didn't even protest when Tyler undressed him and thrown his shirt and tuxedo on the floor.

"Go to my room and wait for me." Tyler demanded.

With all the frustration came the desperation. At this point, if Tyler asked him to jump, he'd ask how high. So he went to Tyler's room and climbed on the bed, carelessly fluffed two pillows and placed them in the middle of the bed before he bent himself over them, putting him on his hands and knees, waiting. He knew Tyler enjoyed fucking him from behind and he already knew Tyler was in the mood of some rough sex. A wave of lust washed over him as he thought of how good he was going to get it.

Then he heard a sharp intake of breath followed by a low growl. Troye craned his neck to the side and saw Tyler watching him with a tight expression on his face. He smirked and wiggled his ass to Tyler and saw that Tyler tensing up from all the control he was exerting.

"Come on, daddy. What are you waiting for? Don't you want me, daddy?" Troye said with such sweetness in his voice that he didn't think was possible before.

Tyler sauntered over and Troye felt the bed dipped behind him. Then he felt Tyler's smooth hands gripping low on his hips and kneading the side of his ass with his thumbs. Troye moaned lewdly when Tyler dropped a few kisses here and there, his body jerked and shivered when Tyler nuzzled near his entrance. He was anticipating the sensation of the wet tongue invading pass his tight muscles but it never came. Instead, he felt Tyler's warm hand around his throbbing cock, the slickness of lube bypassed his muddled brain.

He lost all sense of time; one minute Tyler's hand was all warm and stroking him, the next it was gone. Then he felt the unmistakable pressure on the head of his cock. He looked and gasped as he watched Tyler sliding a black ring passed his widen head, silicone from the feel of it and down his hard cock. The pressure was suffocating, it felt almost too tight to fit, and Troye breathed harshly as Tyler kept rolling the ring towards his base. He whimpered and sobbed, the droplet of sweats started to drip down his forehead and the ring was in place at the base.

"Shit! Oh, fuck daddy. Daddy please, fuck me now. _Fuck me open_! _Please_!" The pressure on his cock was unbearable and Troye pleaded the best way he knew how; head rested on the mattress, hands laid in parallel on both side of his head and ass propped up high for Tyler.

"No, baby. Not tonight." Tyler said and in one swift move, Troye was flipped over onto his back and Tyler straddled him. "Tonight you're the one fucking me, baby."

"Oh god.." Troye whimpered as realisation hit him. He watched with stunned eyes as Tyler brought his slick fingers under and over his balls, unmistakably towards his own entrance. Tyler let out a long hiss at the first intrusion and paused for a few seconds before he started thrusting his fingers into his own ass, working himself open. He moaned softly, his chest heaving slightly and his cock was fully hardened and straining against his lower belly, smearing his precum there.

Troye couldn't believe what was about to happen. "D-daddy.. Are you s-sure..?"

Tyler moaned a little louder, his hand increased in pace and his mouth agape to let the cool air in. "Oh, baby. I should have warned you. I have an unexplainable keenness to have my ass fucked when I'm drunk." Tyler announced while he pulled his fingers out of his ass and adjusted himself above Troye. "And baby, your cock looks exquisitely beautiful. I can't wait to have that so deep in my ass and ride it until the morning sun comes out."

Troye heard an obscene noise that sounded like a cross between the cry of an injured dog and the mewling purr of a cat in heat. Then he realised that the noise was resonating from his chest. He should feel embarrassed but he wasn't. His cock throbbed in anticipation, the ache he felt was a little numb from the delayed blood flow. But his cock was raw and sensitive, one touch and he had to bite down hard on his lower lip to release some of those intensity.

" _Ohgoddaddyy_! Daddy, pleaseee, it's too much! I- I n-need..." Troye choked and forgot what he wanted to say when he felt the tightness of Tyler's entrance coming down on his cock, forcing its way down and opening little by little around his tapered head.

"FUCK! _Fuck_! _Daddyyyyy_!"

Tyler didn't need time for reprieve, he sunk down on his cock in a even pace and only stopped when Troye was balls' deep in that incredibly tight vise. Tyler groaned bashfully and Troye kept chanting _please move, please move, please move_ in his head. And his prayers were quickly answered.

Tyler supported himself and braised his hands on Troye's stomach as he impaled himself on Troye's cock, again and again. He did it so slowly, the heat surrounding Troye's cock was almost too much to handle and if it wasn't for the cock ring, Troye would have cum so violently. The pleasure ignited by the slow friction was killing him. He trashed his head from side to side, his toes curled and his hands gripping so hard on Tyler's thighs just above his knees.

"Hmmmmm, baby. It's been so long. Fuck, you feel so incredible, _so fucking good_. God, yes, so good!" Tyler rambled and started to move faster, riding him harder and Troye couldn't stop the needy sob from being heard. In this moment, time warped into a meaningless void and everything around him contorted into something intangible. He's dying, he thought as he screwed his eyes shut, because he was certain that what he was feeling at this moment was out of this world.

Tyler high was fast approaching, his hand went to his cock and fisted it roughly and soon enough, he cummed with a shout, the tenor in his voice shook the air in the room. The strings of white cum landed on Troye's sweaty torso and Tyler was trying to catch his breath as he slowed down his movements.

" _Fucking christ, baby_. That was so good. So good!" Tyler said and lifted himself off.

Troye whimpered at the lost of warmth around his cock and released the breath that he didn't realised he held.

"Hn _nnnghhh daddy_.. Please daddy, I need to cum so bad. Please, _pleaseeee let me cum, daddy_!" His voice was thick and coarse, he felt like he'd swallowed sand by the spoonful.

Then Tyler deposited himself in between his thighs, very gingerly rolled the ring upwards, little by little like he wanted to prolong this torture and robbed him off his last strands of sanity. At last, the ring was off and he could see the light again. He could feel the retained blood surged towards the entire length of his cock, filling it up more than it's usual capacity.

Then, without warning, his climax tore through this body like a raging hurricane, numbing all senses and blurring all thoughts. It was the most intense he'd ever felt, so pronounced and all too gratifying, he felt like drowning at the bottom of the sea and soaring through the sky at the same time. He felt himself bucked and trashed and writhed so violently on the bed. He screamed, sweared every profanity he knew and pleaded so desperately, for it to stop, for it to stretched on to infinity, he can't make up his mind.

He pried open his heavy lids and almost cummed again by the sight. Tyler's face was flushed so red and it decorated with so much of his cum. He watched with such disbelief as Tyler took his cock and slapped it against his cheek, smearing his cum all over the side of his face. It was obscenely arousing, and hot, and intimate, and hot, _so hot_. Then, he passed out.

***

"Here we are, sir. Right on time. I'll be right down here waiting for you while you go get your date, ya?"

"Thanks, Raj. I won't be long. You'd probably have to circle around the block while you wait?" Tyler asked his Uber.

"Yeah, sure. It's no problem, sir." Raj replied.

Tyler exited the car and straighten his tuxedo before he swung the door open and went into Troye's building. He was feeling rather excited for tonight, as it would be the first time they'll be seen together in public places. He chuckled lightly and told himself that he was being silly, they've gone to public places together a bunch of times but there's just something more prominent about going out as his date that felt far more intimate than usual. He felt fluttering of butterflies in his stomach whenever he recalled Troye agreeing to it. If that doesn't officially made him a crushing school boy, he didn't know what does. The elevator dinged and he strutted towards the loft. As he got nearer, he heard hushed words coming from behind the loft's door. Then, he tensed.

_"....it's two or twenty years, Casp!"_ Then, a short pause.

_"Okay.... just have a bad feeling about this, bruh...."_

_"Don't worry.....my knight in shining armour....if anything goes wrong."_

_"....would still sweep you off your feet....knows what you're up to."_

_"....make sure he doesn't find out...."_

He was stunned, confused, unable to convince himself that those exchanged words weren't about him. He tried to think of a reason to not just barged into the loft and confront Troye of the truth. Every fibre in his body was pushing him to do it, but he fought against all of them. And so, he closed his eyes and took a long, calming breath, feeling the cool air snuffing away any seed of anger and hurt that intended to sprout. After a short while, his breathing became even, he put on a neutral face, lifted his fisted hand, his knuckled on the wooden door, and he knocked.


	11. eleven

_"Come on, spuddy! Give me a lift and then I'll pull you up."_

_Troye's gaze darted around nervously into the night, trying to look for any signs that they've been spotted. The sound of waves crashing against the rocks was poking on his nerves, he was jumpy with each splash and then he heard a chuckle coming from behind him. He turned to look at the boy standing on a worn out boulder, the rough and hard edges smoothen over time. The boy with a sun-kissed face, pink and healthy and utterly irrresistable. It was the same face that he had been thinking of and undeniably obssessed with ever since he first saw it when he was sixteen years old. His dark hair was messy from the strong summer breeze but he still managed to look like the smug little badass that Troye had come to love. Yes, love. Troye was irrevocably in love with this boy. Then, he saw that the boy's lips curled upwards into a sly grin and Troye had to breathe the cool breeze in to calm his gradually racing heart._

_"Are you scared, spuddy? We can still go back right now if you're scared. Wouldn't want daddy dearest to know you've snuck out close to midnight to come to this old abandoned lighthouse with me."_

_"Shut up, Emery. I'm not scared. I'm just trying to be cautious so that you won't get another strike on your record." Troye countered while dropping his gaze on the ground to hide the blush that was making its way to his cheeks. Emery came nearer to him and lifted his head with a finger under his chin, locked their gazes for a moment before he lean in to plant a chaste kiss on Troye's pouting lips. Troye felt all his nerves vanish at once as he melt into the soft kiss._

_It was perfect, the kiss, just as perfect as how his first kiss with Emery had felt. Emery was his first love, his only love. He couldn't imagine any other person in the world who could make him feel how Emery made him feel every time he kisses him like this. It was warm and sweet, it made his heart flutter like the wings of a hummingbird; quick, relentless and tingly. It made him feel like laying in the meadow under the setting sun, listening to the whistling sounds of the wind blowing at the wild flowers and tall grasses. Judging by how hard his heart was beating in his chest now, he was almost convinced that Emery could hear the sound of it thumping over the waves and the howling breeze._

_"You're so good for me, spuddy. Always first to worry about me even when you're scared." Emery said as he pulled away, his brown eyes bored into his own and Troye could feel his cheeks get hotter. He heard Emery chuckle again. "And you're so adorable when you blush. I love it when you're all shy with me."_

_"Oh, shut up." Troye said again and pushed away from Emery to give himself some much needed distance. He was pulled back in an instant, Emery's hands clasped around his wrists and he felt his body crashing lightly into the lean chest._

_"But oh, I know you don't really want me to shut up. Don't think I haven't noticed how your pulse jumped when I say you're adorable." Emery said it so near to his mouth, he could feel every burst of warm breath against his lips. He wanted to correct Emery of which word made his pulse jumped, but Emery continued before he had the chance. "You're a dork, spuddy. But you're my dork." And his knees buckled a little. Emery could make the earth below him shake with just little words. Summoning his courage, he tugged at the front of Emery's shirt to close the gap in between them and crashed his mouth onto Emery's._

_Troye draped his arms around Emery's neck as their mouths moved in sync with each other. Emery's hands came around his back and hugged him tightly, plastering their fronts together. Troye's breath hitched, the air around them was getting hot, and all he could feel was the wet tongue on his lips and the warm hands on his back. He could feel every inch of those glorious body against his own, every press of skin and every flex of muscle. He felt drunk._

_Troye couldn't pinpoint the exact time when Emery had grown from the scrawny little boy that he was into this attractive, sexy as hell man. He was only two years older and yet, his body had transformed into a sculptured masterpiece while Troye remained slim, just borderline of being too thin. Muscles had been filling out under the skin; making his chest firmer, his shoulders broader, his back wider and Troye just can't wrap it around his head on how lucky he'd been to have met this boy, this man._

_It was during summer time like this, when they first met. The circumstance was ugly, the day Emery appeared in his life as Troye was trying to look for a way out of the human barricade that had him cornered beside a dumpster at his school. Troye was not foreign to this kind of incidents but he was still afraid of what those mean school boys would do to him. It had been happening quite frequently lately, ever since he made the mistake of trying to kiss a boy who doesn't reciprocate the attraction he felt. He wasn't at all praised for daring to be himself, rather he was punished for it. He'd been called hurtful names, shoved, pushed and laughed at, and sometimes when all those didn't satisfy their appetite for bullying, they cornered him, like today, and tried to draw blood from Troye using their knuckles._

_Troye could carry himself better when there would usually be two boys cornerning him. He could throw a few punches in retort but this time there was more of them and only one of him. The odds were not good and he could already feel the stinging pain that would surely be throbbing around his torso and stomach, because that was where those boys always hit, just so his bruises would be hidden under his clothes. In an instant when he saw the first knuckle being swung at him and his hands coming up to protect his head, he heard a loud growl followed by a dull sound of glass shattering and then a loud, pained cry. Then he heard some shouting, some noises of people being pushed against the dumpster and throwing punches, more pained cries and lastly the sound of people scrambling to get away._

_Troye pulled his bent legs closer to his chest and buried his face deeper into his knees when he heard footsteps coming his way. He flinched when he felt someone nudging gently at his shoulders._

_"Hey, hey. It's okay. They're gone now." Troye heard him say._

_Very carefully, Troye lifted his head to see an unfamiliar face watching him with a concerned look. He studied that face slowly, his eyes did a thorough sweep from the top to the bottom. Intense eyes blown wide from those adrenaline, lovely oval-shaped face, a bit flushed, and Troye was instantly drawn to the full lips. Even though it was split and the blood was still fresh, he still looked the part of those irrresistable bad boy who had just won a big fight with only a flick of his finger. Arrogance, Troye thought. This boy exuded arrogance and it was obvious that this boy had constantly attracted trouble wherever he went. Then, he focused on the deep indent just below his lower lip, thinking that he'd never seen anything cuter._

_The corner of the bloodied lip lifted upwards and Troye realised too late that he had been staring, and scrambled to grab his bag on the floor beside him and clutched it tightly to his chest, head buried into his bag this time._

_"Hey, I'm not gonna hurt you, if that's what you're afraid of. I just beat those five boys to a pulp to save you, for fuck's sake." The boy said._

_"Why?" Troye questioned, his voice slightly shaky. No one could blame him for being overly cautious about his well being. He had almost, most probably, surely been the punching bags of those earlier boys._

_"Because you needed help, you dump spud. Why else? Would you rather I didn't scare them off just now? You could have just said so and it would have saved me a lot of trouble. This lip is gonna sting like a bitch for the next couple of days." The boy said again while pointing to his bloodied lip._

_"I mean, why do you wanna help me? Nobody else did. And I bet you wouldn't think twice about leaving me be if you know the reason why they did it."_

_"What? You think I won't help you because you're a poof?"_

_Troye's head snapped up and the boy smirked._

_"Yeah. I know you're into dicks and that's why you've been their human punching bag. I can't stand them, those ignorant little shit. Now, come on. Let's get you clean up."_

_Troye hesitated for a while. "I don't even know you."_

_"Oh, for the love of God, don't be such a pussy." The boy rolled his eyes and let out a dramatic sigh. "Hello, I'm Emery. I'm into pussy AND dicks. Seeing that you're both, it's no wonder I like you."_

_"I think should feel offended by so many different words in that sentence."_

_"Hey, I just beat the shit out of those boys who harassed you. Can't you just say thank you?" Emery said._

_Troye felt himself blush and lower his gaze. "Oh, right. Uhm.. Tha-"_

_"All right, all right. No need to thank me repeatedly. Now, come on, you spud. We haven't got all day." Emery said as he stood up abruptly and extended a hand in front of him. Only then Troye noticed the rugged outfit that he was wearing and he soon made the connection in his head, about Emery's readiness to spring into a fight at any time._

_Emery was from a very different neighbourhood from his, the kind that police cars patrolled around, the kind that his father have again and again warned him to stay away from. The side way smirk, the hood clothing, especially the defensive stance his body was in, they all made Emery looked every part of a resident bad boy. But this bad boy had been the only person who stood up for him and fought for him._

_Decidedly wanting to put his faith to a test, Troye grabbed the extended hand and hauled himself onto his feet. The boy shot him a wide smile, it made him look a little younger and softer around the edges._

_Troye was instantly hooked._

_And hooked ever since. Emery was there for him. He sucked Troye into his world, showed him things that Troye never thought existed, taught him things he'd never heard of and he had never felt so alive and so in love._

_And he wished that he was a creature made to survive solely on Emery's kisses and not air. Alas, he wasn't. When air became inevitable, their mouths parted to let fresh air in. Despite his irritation of having to part from that heart-melting kiss, Troye was smiling from ear to ear. This was where he belonged, with Emery, and at that moment, he thought nothing could ever come between them._

_But he was wrong. Utterly and inexplicably wrong._

_Words travelled, of a star-crossed lovers sneaking around, planting their seeds of terrible sins by being together. Two boys, one from a sleazy neighbourhood and one from a high life, catching attention and ignited hushed whispers wherever they go. And not long after, those words reached the ears of a Mr Mellet, Troye's conservative and old-fashioned father, a proud man, and he wasn't happy._

_"What do you think you're doing associating yourself with that leech? I have specifically told you to cut all ties with him. He's problematic and bound to bring you and this family down!" His father scolded him._

_"He won't. He's my friend!" Troye defended._

_"Don't be stupid, boy. He's not your friend, he's just using you! That leech doesn't belong in our world." His father said and Troye didn't have time to bask in the irony of his father's words. Ironic because the world that he'd supposed to be in, didn't welcome him._

_"Stop calling him that! He won't do anything to hurt me."_

_"He's dangerous, boy! I want you to stop all contact with him at once! End of discussion."_

_Troye felt his anger rising at the condescending way his father was speaking to him, like he was still a child. "Never, father. You don't get to demand me of such thing. I'm an adult now, I can make my own decision."_

_Troye felt another wave of anger coursed through him as his father snickered. "Oh, you're so naive. No wonder he's taking advantage of you. Being eighteen doesn't make you an adult. You're vulnerable, boy, and that piece of shit knows that. You'll see, once he's done using you he will-"_

_"Stop it, father! He's not like that! He's very good to me and I love him and we're going to be together whether you like it or not! This is my life and you have no say in what I wanna do or who I wanna be with! What Emery and I have is real!" Troye lost control of his anger and shouted at his father. He didn't mean for the second half of his word vomit to come out that way but what's done was done._

_The silence that came after was deafening. Only the sounds of harsh breaths being heard in the space of his father's cold office._

_"If you are so inclined to drag yourself further into the hole you're throwing yourself into, I'll just have to prove it to you." His father's voice was eerily calm and he felt shiver prickling down his spine by the look his father gave him. "Stephen, please bring young master into his bedroom and don't let him out of your sight."_

_Stephen, his father's assistant/bodyguard came to his side and tried to usher him out of the office._

_"No, father. What are you gonna do?" His father didn't answer and he panicked as he watched his father's face hardened. "Father, no! What are you gonna do to him? Please, father. Tell me!"_

_His father kept his silence as he waved at Stephen to leave the room. Troye struggled and tried to fight against the tight grip on his arm but Stephen was a big man. So, he reluctantly followed Stephen out of his father's office. When he was finally in the confine of his own room, and when he heard the door to his room shut with an eminent click, he let his tears fall._

_Three days later, his father came into the room and sat on one of the two chairs beside his bed and waited for him to acknowledge his presence. Troye felt weak, mostly due to the untouched plates of food still laying on the table next to where his father sat. That, and all the crying. He propped himself up with little success and lean himself against the headboard as his father threw a small video camera onto the bed._

_"What did you do to him?" Troye asked with his hoarse voice._

_"I just did what I have to do to protect my family." His father said as he gestured for Troye to take the camera._

_Troye grabbed the camera gingerly and turned the device on. His shaky thumb lingered over the 'play' button, took a deep breath to prepare himself of what he was about to watch._

_It wasn't what he'd expected to see and it was definitely not all those gory scenes that his active mind had been conjuring up since he saw the camera. But the impact was still as deadly as it would be. The soundless clip showed his father and Emery in a middle of a heated discussion but neither had any form of physical contact with each other. His father's face was stern and Emery's stance was aggressive. Then, when his father took an envelope out from the inside of his suit, Emery stopped short and he said something to his father. His father said something back and handed the envelope to Emery. He opened it, his eyes widen and looked up as if startled by what his father was saying. Emery kept quiet for a short while before shoving the envelope into his jacket pocket, then he left, leaving his father alone. The clip came to a static stop with his father looked ahead with a smile lurking on his father's lip._

_He looked up and saw the same expression on his father seated not a few feet away from him, blurry, as the tears began welling up._

_"You see, boy? Have you seen this leech clearly for who he is? I told him that if he leaves you alone and never see you again, he can walk away with that big fat cheque and no questions will be asked. How much tears did you think he poured into it before be decided to take my money? None, boy. None! He even thanked me on his way out."_

_Troye was stunned quiet. He felt the chill down to his bone. He couldn't believe his father would do something so vindictive just to prove his point. He hated that his father was right. He hated that his father's action, no matter if the sole purpose was to hurt Troye, had proven that Emery was not who Troye thought he was. Emery, his Emery, had committed the worst kind of betrayal. He'd chosen money over him, his supposedly true love._

_The tears began streaming down his cheeks and his wails can he heard echoing the empty halls of his father's mansion. He felt as though there were thousands of needles poking in his chest at once and he couldn't breathe. The earth below him was shaking so violently and he was about to fall into the pits of agony, utterly helpless._

_His heart, his trust, his love- they were shattered into millions of pieces. For the first time in his life, he wanted to take his own life, wanted to stop this insurmountable pain that he felt in his chest. But he was a coward, he couldn't do it. And so he cried, until his throat was raw, until his body was drained. He cried, mourning the lost of his innocence, his trust for people. But ultimately, he mourned for his heart, for he can never feel it whole again because his heart, like his love, was hollow and irreversibly dead._


	12. twelve

Tyler took a long drag of air before he stepped forward and gave the dark mahogany door a firm push. The bell tinkled above his head and the sudden burst of warm air hit his face and quickly enveloped him. It was almost close to eleven, two patrons passed him and left through the door he had just came in, and the pub was noticeably less swarmed than it would be during happy hour. He looked around in search of a familiar face, then made his way over when he spotted the blonde seated at their usual place at the bar, the pint in hand already half empty.

Tyler made himself known as he sat on the stool by the bar. "Hey."

"Hey, mate. Got here alright?"

"Yeah. The weather's a bit chilly, but that's yesterday's news."

"Hah! Don't be such a sissy. Come on. Let's get a pint in you and you'll warm up in no time." Marcus said as he waved down the bartender and ordered a pint of beer and two shots of tequila. They both sat quietly until the bartender returned with their drinks. Marcus pushed the beer and a shot of tequila towards Tyler before grabbing the other shot and raised it, tilted his chin towards Tyler and motioning for him to do the same. Tyler did so and Marcus clinked their shot glasses together and downed them in a big gulp.

"So, what's up?" Marcus asked as he sucked the sliced lime, his eyes squinting from the sourness of the lime and the burn from the tequila.

"Nothing. Just felt like coming out for a drink." Tyler answered as he sprinkled the salt on the lime before he popped it in his mouth. He knew Marcus would never buy into the reason he'd just told, for he has never 'felt like a drink' and especially not on a Wednesday night. But for some reason, Marcus didn't comment on that and just let the silence stretched on. At times like these, he was ever grateful that Marcus knew him well enough to catch up on his mood, even without him needing to say much.

Tyler continued to sip on his beer while Marcus did the same, both basking in the comfort of the low murmurs in the pub until Tyler let out an eminent sigh.

Marcus crooked his eyebrows as he watched Tyler fidgeting in his seat like he has a thousand fire ants up in his pants. "This is about Troye, isn't it?" He finally asked.

Tyler nodded as his fingers played with the tattered corner of the coaster under his pint. "Marcus, I think I'm fucked."

Marcus was about halfway bringing his pint to his mouth when Tyler spoke. His hand stopped mid-air as he looked at Tyler, an array of expressions flew by his face; shock, distraught, empathy, and then supportive. "Oh, Tyler. I'm so sorry to hear that. I must say, I thought it wouldn't come to this, mate. I mean, I know you would have taken every precaution there is and I understand, sometimes when emotions run high, inhibitions run low, and accidents do happen. But yeah, I'm sure we can figure this out. We _will_ figure this out, together. I'm gonna be with you every step of the way if you need me to, mate. There's medicine for it now, right? I mean-"

"Wait, hold up. Back pedal a little bit. Medicine? Jesus, Marcus. You think that Troye and I- that we're-..." Tyler asked, disbelief painted his face.

"Well, yeah. That's what you're trying to tell me, right? Wait. You're not?"

"Fucking hell. Of course not. Do we look like some kind of idiots that would put our health to risk? We've taken every precaution that's needed and we've had our monthly checkups since we've started seeing each other and they always come back clean, alright? Holy shit, Marcus. How in the hell did you come to that assumption?"

"Phew, okay. I'm glad that you and Troye are all good in that regard." Mascus said while Tyler shot him a death stare. "Hey, hey.. to be fair, you've been extremely cryptic as shit recently, you brood more than you usually would and you looked like you haven't slept in days. And then you asked me out for a drink and looked like you're about to hurl, what am I suppose to think, mate? You could have been less cryptic and be more specific when you said, and I quote, 'I'm fucked'."

"For fuck's sake, it's an _expression_ , Marcus. Haven't you heard of it? It's an expression that is usually used to insinuate someone being in a less-than-ideal situation. A situation that I would rather not be in but it's just my fucking luck that when I finally realised how less-than-ideal this situation is, I'm already too caught up in it. I'm confused and majorly conflicted. I don't know what I should do, or what I _could_ do to make this situation better. And I have a feeling that even if you asked me to extract myself from this less-than-ideal situation, I don't think I _can_."

Tyler rambled on in a single breath. He panted for a bit as his chest heaved, trying to draw new breaths into his air-depleted lungs. He waited for Marcus to comment on his outburst and took no satisfaction in the surprised look on Marcus's face. His eyes were widen and his mouth agape like fish out of water. Tyler would have teased him for looking so comical unintentionally but given that he was about to confide in Marcus of his less-than-ideal situation, he didn't think it was a good idea to aggravate Marcus unnecessarily. So, he waited for Marcus to absorb and process, and maybe try to make sense of what he had just said.

"Oh." Marcus finally said after what Tyler felt was an infinity later. "Oh wow, Oakley. You're fucked. Still hella cryptic but yeah, you're _thoroughly_ fucked."

Tyler groaned in frustration and Marcus held up both his hands in surrender and urged for Tyler to go on.

And Tyler did. He told Marcus about how their supposedly one night of incredible lust turned into a full blown, long-termed session of hooking up. He refused to label them as _friends with benefits_ because they weren't really friends when they started and the term _fuck buddies_ seemed too crude for his taste. Then, he went on and on about how he'd began to see Troye in a very different light despite the flawed circumstances of how they met, how he'd been pleasantly surprise each time Troye let slip some sides of him that Tyler's never seen before.

He liked that Troye could make him burst out laughing with the most ridiculous things, like trying to play an imaginary ukulele while humming a cheery, happy tune. He also liked how goofy Troye sometimes is, especially when he tried to show off his ability where he could bend his finger backwards until it touches the back of his hand. It was freaky when Troye showed him the first time, but he got over it pretty quickly. Up to this day Troye is still proud of his little 'special talent' but Tyler being Tyler, he let Troye have his fun. But mostly, Tyler liked to see Troye happy.

Never in his entire existence thought that he'd one day feel this incredible urge to try all his might to keep a smile on someone's face. Nor he'd ever thought that seeing the smile on that someone's face would make him feel genuine happiness thrumming from deep within. Coupled with the fact that he is the one who put the smile there, he felt lighter than the seeds of the dandelion floating in the breeze.

For the lack of a better word, he's changed.

Troye came into his life like a hurricane, blowing so strongly and sweeping all of his insecurities and doubts away, leaving only his raw, true self behind, exposed to the core and yet, he'd never felt more at ease. Tyler felt incredibly comfortable to be in his own skin whenever he was with Troye. For some inexplainable reason, Tyler was keen to feel like he doesn't have to worry about Troye judging him, or think less of him when he did something less than expected. _Acceptance_. Tyler felt adequately accepted by Troye and only when it happened, he'd realized how much he'd wanted that, craved even, in the man he loves. After a long contemplation and self war, he'd finally accepted defeat and embraced the hidden truth; he, Tyler Oakley is in love with Troye Sivan.

But fate is like a cruel mistress, envious of all happiness other than her own. It was after he'd made peace with his feelings for Troye that she decided to pull the rug from under Tyler. Stumbling upon what seemed to be a conversation not meant for him, he was torn between ignorance and the truth. He had never felt so conflicted before, for he is always a man of either black or white, nothing in between. But for all the times he'd spent with Troye, he'd at least learnt that things aren't always so clear cut.

But that didn't mean that Tyler wasn't feeling the anger. Angry because he'd let Troye make a fool of himself with his hidden agenda; he should be smarter than that. Angry because Troye had made him feel so comfortable that he let himself go when he's with Troye; he should be more cautious than that. Angry because even after he'd realise what Troye might have wanted him for, a big part of him still hoped that Troye could feel something real for him, which he knew he shouldn't. But the heart is also like a cruel mistress, always wanting something that was unreachable and most certainly not hers to want.

"Okay, Oakley. I'm just gonna be blunt here." Marcus started after he shifted in his seat and faced Tyler with a serious look. "I think you're a bloody idiot."

Tyler raised a questioning eyebrow and Marcus continued on. "It's clear to me that you're hopelessly in love with him. And if what I saw during the ball last weekend was any indication, I'd say he felt the same way as you do. He did try to deny it too, you know? But seriously, I gave him a piece of my mind. And now it seems like I'm about to give you one too."

Marcus drained the last of his beer and burped before he laid the pint down on its coaster. "Look, I don't know what kind of hidden agenda that he has or what he's doing behind your back. He could be a spy for the KGB or a demon disguising as human to suck the souls of innocent people for all I care. It frustrates me to no end seeing you two denying the one thing that's so obvious. I don't know if you'd realised this but he's also another bloody idiot and you two deserve no one else but each other. Haven't you heard that _communication_ is the key? Go talk to him, Oakley. You'll never find out if you don't at least try talking it out with him. Gosh, you two are like a bunch of kids trying to build sand castles from dry sands. It'll never hold without a little water. In fact, the more water the better. Don't ask me how I know that but if you insist on knowing, I've babysat my nieces and nephews more times than I could count before I came to the states so trust me when I say, no dry sand, okay?"

It was Tyler's turn to stare with an agape mouth, utterly speechless by the strange metaphor being used but also opening up to the possibilities of Marcus's words.

"And now that you've heard me, it's time you repay me by telling me how you two know each other. He was saying things like how you've robbed me of the story of the day you two first met. I wanna hear it, this should be good." Marcus said as he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Tyler huffed in annoyance and tried to think of ways to soften the blow of the true nature of their encounter. "Well,..."

And Tyler told him.

 

***

 

Troye looked up the gradually greying sky as he felt a drop of water landed on his nose. The wind was slowly picking up and there were more droplets of water staining the sleeves of his denim jacket. He increased his pace and walked faster towards the marble gazebo at the end of the path he was on while trying to shield a cup of steaming tea from the drizzling rain by crouching over it. The tea spilled a little and burnt his thumb, but he carried on as if nothing happened until he stepped into the gazebo. He wiped off the spilled tea at the side of the paper cup before he handed it out to the person he'd asked to wait for him there, just a couple of minutes ago.

"Here, earl grey with lemon, no sugar."

"Thank you, dear. Although I've told you countless times that you don't have to do this with me anymore. But I guess I'm too old to out-stubborn you now, aren't I?"

"Never, Mrs A. You'll always be a young lass that could pass off as a juvenile delinquent. Besides, I have some spare time. What better way to spend it other than with my favourite delinquent that look younger each day and as lovely as a daisy in the spring?"

"Compliments will get you no where, young man."

Troye chuckled and grinned sheepishly. "Oh, I beg to differ, Mrs A."

Mrs. Alperstein gave him a light snare as she sipped her tea, feeling the warm liquid spreading heat through her body. "I swear if I get a nickel every time I hear one of your horrible sexual euphemism, I'd be as rich as the dropout boy who invented Facebook."

"Oh, wow. You're incredibly well-informed about these things, aren't you? Tell me, are you secretly a retired CIA agent who used to kick ass during your youth?"

"Again with the compliments. It's no wonder Ollie never stood a chance with you. I still remember the day he came to me and told me he'd met a really cute boy, and that he's such a sweet talker. I told him to never trust a boy with a mouth sweeter than honey and did he listen? No. He made you his boyfriend three weeks later."

"Come on, Mrs A. You should give him credit to have resisted me as long as he did. It took a lot of self restraint to not give in to such great temptation and pounce the minute he laid eyes on me. I mean, it's hardly fair."

Mrs Alperstein rolled her eyes and shifted her gaze to look out the gazebo, to the vast greenery. The rain was hitting softly on the ground, the sound of the rain pitter pattering on the grass was soothing and puddles of dirty water started to pool on the crease of the stone walkway.

"It still felt like not long ago that he'd come to me, beaming to me his thousand watt smile and told me he'd just sold his first painting. He paced around the room as he told me his encounter with his buyer, animated and utterly ecstatic. He was such a child sometimes." Mrs Alperstein told Troye, her eyes turning a little misty as she reminisce a memory from her recent past.

"He was a very talented man. There's no doubt he was born to succeed in this world." Troye added, his voice as solemn as the grey sky. He watched as Mrs Alperstein wiped the tears that threatened to fall with a folded feminine handkerchief. He stood up to kneel in front of Mrs Alperstein and retrieved the now cooled tea from her grasp and placed it gently on the bench beside her. Then, Troye grabbed both her hands and looked earnestly at her.

"Edith, it's okay. He's fine now. I know that it's a terrible incident that happened but he's at a better place now." Troye said while he tried hard to swallow the big lump that threatened to choke his words. He would hate to show any more weakness, especially in front of her, the person who needed someone to be the strong one at this moment. But he was getting better at it. He'd liked to think that he'd been there for her when she needed him, that he's provided he as much comfort as she had for him. No one should go through what she had gone through alone and it broken and mended his heart at the same time that Mrs Alperstein had pulled through with much tenacity and grace.

And truth be told, he sometimes wondered if he'd able to survive it if it wasn't for her.

She had made the grievance much easier to endure, the pain much easier to withstand. She put up a brave face and never once put any blame on anyone. She is a rare gem among a sea of common stone, and Troye never felt more honoured to have known her in his life time. She and Ollie.

"It has been three years since that day." Mrs Alperstein's voice cut through the fog of his own thought and brought him back to present. "I meant what I said, Troye. There's really no reason for you to keep coming back here with me. You're not obligated for life, you know?"

Troye looked down at their intertwined hands to tear his gaze away from the compassionate and caring look Mrs Alperstein was giving him. He knew he wouldn't have managed to control his emotion if he kept their eye contact. But his action was proven fruitless as Mrs Alperstein said her next piece.

"You're just as head strong as Ollie. I think I would have keeled over my own grave before you'd listen to me but regardless, I'd very much like you to move on, Troye. Three years is enough a time to punish yourself. You're not at all at fault."

"I'll have to disagree with you, Mrs A. If he- if I had been there on time, he wouldn't have had the chance to-"

"If not that time, then there will be another. As much as you and I loved him, he was his own worst enemy. How would you save someone from themselves?"

Troye shook his head in defiance and Mrs Alperstein's hand came up and embraced the side of his cheek for a moment before she gave it a good hard pinch. "Ow! Mrs A!"

"That's what you get for defying me. Haven't you learn by now that my words are not to be taken lightly?"

"This is child abuse, Mrs A. I thought you liked me now?"

"God forbid! I'd never waste my time developing a pleasant feelings of likeness towards someone who's as shameless and ill-mannered as you. I don't know how Ollie could see pass all your atrocious behaviour. I thought I'd raised him better than that." Mrs Alperstein said and attempted to swat her palm against his cheek again but he ducked out of her reach in time.

"Mrs A, we're out in public. No violence!"

"If you're smart, you'd better start heeding my words and go marry that detective that you've been seeing. That's a man who could tame you."

Troye deliberately rolled his eyes at her. "How many times have I told you, we're not like that. We're utterly happy and content plumbing each other's hose whenever-"

"A nickel, every time."

Troye grinned as Mrs Alperstein stood up with her cane in hand and walked slowly towards the pavement that led them out of the gazebo. The sky had cleared sometime between the deep conversation that involved stifling emotions and the sarcastic rebuttal of two grown person acting like children. Troye came beside her immediately to drape his arm over her frail shoulders and they walked together, towards the intended headstone that was considerably newer than the others there.

Troye crouched down to clean the headstone of weed and mud while Mrs Alperstein talked to it with a genuine smile on her face. After they were both done paying their respects, Troye escorted Mrs Alperstein out of the cemetery with his heart heavy as ever, weighed down by the burden of endless guilt, and left the plain granite headstone with a Star of David carved to the top behind.

 

_In loving memory of_

_Oliver Ryan Alperstein_

_1985 - 2013_

_Once met, never forgotten_

_Beloved son, grandson & fiancé_

 

 


	13. thirteen

There were times when the planet may have stopped turning on its axis or the time when the gravity ceased to ground him. The sun may have risen from the west or the young buds would blossom into adolescent flowers during winter. Regardless, if he could still feel the familiar heat against his own naked skin, could still feel the lean calves pressed tightly to his sides when the long legs wrapped securely around his waist, could still feel the breathy moans tickling the shell of his ear, then all is right for him.

His movements were slow, delicate. He clenched his eyes shut as he revelled in his own pleasure of thrusting into the delightful warmth. It was exquisite, suffocatingly tight and it wrapped around his cock beautifully, like it was meant to do exactly that. He let himself drown in the pool of bliss, the mind-numbing sensation surged through him entirely, physically and mentally. He groaned, his breaths hit the flushed cheek as he pull out excruciatingly slow and push back in with a vigor. A small noise escaped from the pair of lips fastened on his shoulder, whiny and low and unbelievably sexy, it does things to his body like no one else can.

He wanted to feel every inch of those tight muscles relenting to his intrusion, gradually loosening their tight grasps just enough to accommodate his thickness. He wanted to feel them clench and unclench around his prick as they try to greedily suck him in deeper. He wanted to feel the pleasant warmth slowly enveloping more and more of him until he was buried to the hilt. And then he pull out again.

He was a masochist. He was thriving on the pain to gain pleasure. The pain of holding himself back, the pain of controlling his urge and desire to take, the pain of not just slamming into the tight vise again and again until he sees stars. His movement was intricately slow, abundantly teasing. With each thrust earned him a hitched gasp, with each pull earned him a low groan. The symphony was charmingly seductive, luring him into the traps of uninhibited lust.

He felt the legs around him tighten and the body bucked forward, successfully sheathing his length that much more. Both of them groaned in unison at the sudden change of pressure where they were connected, and the angle was allowing him to explore that much deeper into the endless heat. The slim body lifted off the bed, the back forming an elegant arch, and he can't help but drape one arm around the arched back and bring their bodies that much closer.

He heard the unvocalised pleading. He knew that he should go faster like every other time. He could pound himself silly into the ever enticing hole and feel it surrendering itself to his mercy. He could demand every sound of carnal cries there is with every play of his thrusts, coaxing it out of the sensual body below him whenever he wanted. But tonight was different. He didn't want to demand anymore. He was utterly useless under the weight of love he felt for this person heaving underneath him. What he wants, what he _needs_ , was to submit his power of demand over to him. He needs to be demanded, needs to feel as wanted as he wanted him.

Tyler felt something has changed after the night at the pub. The little talk had made him realised that his situation was less likely to be doomed as he thought. He saw it too; the glimpse of longing gazes, the innocent touch that seemed to linger longer than necessary and the face that seemed to brighten whenever their eyes met across the room. Those were subtle enough a hint to convince him of his feeling wasn't at all unrequited.

So, he set himself on a mission. It was as though the talk had unlocked a high pressurised dam and all his repressed feelings and thoughts had come gushing out as soon as the gate lifted. He wanted to pursue the unthreaded path that they both have been too afraid to thread. And so he _must_ , for the both of them.

He allowed himself some time to ease into the mentality of being in a relationship with a man whose issues were eminent. He knew that it wasn't going to be a smooth sailing journey, and that there will be lots of hurdles to pass and layers to peel before he can reach the tender part of Troye's steel heart.

And so, he started with something small, like bringing Troye his favourite coffee with extra cream and chocolate whenever he can. And then it evolved into something slightly bigger like convincing Troye to go to Bryant Park with him one Saturday evening, where there will be a crowd lounging on the grass to enjoy a series of classic films being played on the outdoor big screen. It was subtly a date but of course Tyler played it out as though it wasn't, just so it doesn't spook Troye too much of his intention. And so, the _not-date_ went on without a hitch, with them enjoying the light picnic that Tyler had brought them, they bickered and sparred as usual on more cultural superiority, and as the temperature dropped, they cuddled together under a blanket as they hummed the songs to _Footloose_ under the starry sky.

Then his actions had gotten a little bolder, literally, as he dragged Troye to a shooting range on the prospect of trying something new. He saved Troye of the boring lecture of how to handle a firearm properly and guide him through the most efficient way he knew how; touch and learn.

_"Keep a firm hold on the grip but not too tight." He said lightly as he wrapped his hand over Troye's right hand, the weight of the handgun heavy within his grasp. "Your index finger should never be on the trigger unless you're prepared to aim and fire." He added._

_"The gun is not even loaded yet, detective." Troye snickered but Tyler continued._

_"The tip to getting the best aim is to have a proper stance." Tyler said as he came to stand behind Troye, his hands came up to loosen Troye's shoulders by giving them a bit of a kneading before he slid his hands along Troye's arms._

_"When you extend your arms out, be sure your shoulders are squared and your elbows are bent a little." Tyler resumed and his hands continued to wander down to Troye's body until they reached his hips and gripped there. His thumbs made small circles on Troye's lower back and smirked as he felt a light tremor from Troye. It was deliberate, he made sure to touch enough to yield some response but not too much as to distract Troye from his lesson._

_"Keep your legs apart your shoulder's width and bend your knees slightly." He moved one step closer behind Troye, his knees nudging at the back of Troye's thigh. His front was almost sticking to Troye's back, feeling the heat transferring between their bodies. His left hand went and grabbed the loaded magazine from its holster and snapped it in place with a satisfying click._

_He then moved his hands back onto Troye's waist and leaned in until his mouth grazed Troye's ear, his voice low and sensual. "Now, the gun is loaded."_

_The words seemed to have a desirable effect on Troye as he heard a sharp intake of breath followed by a long exhale, as if to calm something raging in Troye. He continued to whisper the steps suggestively into Troye's ears and touch Troye every where he can. When all the preparation was complete, he grabbed the bright-coloured ear muffs from its stand and helped place it over Troye's ears. Then, Tyler moved all the way in, hugging Troye from behind and pressed his half-hard cock into Troye's jeans-clad ass, a shudder leaving his lips before he spoke again, "Now you're ready to fire, baby. Let your instinct guide you."_

_Tyler backed away completely after that, grinning gleefully to himself as he caught on the long exhale again._

Needless the say, by the end of the lesson, the sexual tension in the room was unbearable, they almost didn't make it back into the apartment before they started tearing each other's clothes off and release those tensions that resulted from the adrenaline and a whole lot of teasing.

And release they did. They were eager, almost to a point where they were clumsy before they actually got into the act and drowned themselves in each other. It was as hot as ever, as passionate as it had ever been. Tyler had started to believe that he was doomed from the very beginning when Troye was plopped onto his squeaky chair all those months ago. He wasn't given any other choice but to fall hopelessly in love with him. Troye is the _chaos_ that made him _right_. Without hot, there won't be cold, without joy there won't be sorrow. 

And of course, he'd found joy in Troye's laughter, he'd found happiness in Troye's enthusiasm. He loves listening to the satisfying hum when Troye had his first taste of coffee in the morning, loves seeing the toothy grin on his goofy face when he'd outwitted Tyler in a cheeky discussion, loves how his body turns rigid at the slightest touch on his ticklish spots.

But he loves Troye the most when he was exposed like this; heaving and sweating, face flushed ten flares of red as he submerged in his own pleasure. He loves that he was coaxing the vulnerability out of Troye this way and only this way he could see the real Troye starting to surface. In this moment, there is only Troye; beautiful, soft, gentle.

"Hmmm, feels good, detective.."

And still incredibly sexy.

Tyler kept his pace an even rhythm, each thrust aimed purposely to only brush lightly at the bundle of nerves and never quite hit it. He knew it would leave Troye wanting for more, and judging from the slight tremble of Troye's legs around his waist, he was certain that the barely, almost there brushes against his spot were slowly driving Troye delirious.

"Oh please, detective. Fuck me. Fuck he harder!"

Troye voiced his need in a low and lustful tone, it was a pleading demand that sent electricity across their bodies. Tyler tried to control his ragged breath as he pulled his cock almost all the way out, leaving only his thick head still sheathed in the warm tightness before he slammed forward with a force that jerked the bed.

" _Ohgodyes_! Yes, _yes_! Just like that, detective!"

Tyler did it again.

"Fuck _yesss_! That feels _so good_ , detective. Oh god, harder!"

And again.

"Yes, more. _More_! I want you to fuck me hard and fast, detective. Please, _pleaseee_!" Troye begged. Tyler felt him adjusted his position and re-hooked his ankles behind Tyler's back. The sound of the handcuffs scraping his headboard was slowly robbing him of his inhibitions. "There, just right _there_ , detective. Don't stop!"

Tyler took a long drag of air as he listened to Troye's increasing moans. He bit his jaw so tight to push down the incredible urge to just give in to what Troye demanded. It was unraveling his control bit by bit, slowly picking at the seam until it almost comes apart. He didn't think he could hang on to it much longer. The denial was too great a bliss as it was an agony. It was an intense conflict, like fire to ice. They cannot exist at the same time and yet they did.

"Say my name, Troye." Tyler managed to say through his gritted teeth.

"Please, _Detective Oakley_. Fuck me. Punish me like the bad boy that I am!"

_'And boy I'll give you everything I got'_

"No, Troye. Say my name. Not daddy, not detective, my _name_.." Tyler said again and tried to back away from their connecting bodies. His action was hindered when Troye once again twisted his long legs around him and Tyler lost his hold on the bed and fell forward, their fronts plastered together, cheek resting against cheek.

"What difference does it make? I've been calling you a bunch of names all these times and you seemed to have enjoyed them immensely." Troye said defiantly as he darted his tongue out to lick the shell of Tyler's ear before he closed his mouth over it and sucked.

A groan escaped Tyler before he could suppressed it. The defiance had stoked a simmering fire in Tyler and he was more determined to make Troye submit to this one thing. For some reason, he really yearned to hear his name tumbling out of Troye's sinful lips, like it will be the magic word that would make everything right. "No, Troye. I want you to call me Tyler."

_'All I wanna say is it'll be alright'_

"Why, detective? Afraid I'll be thinking about another man while you fuck me into oblivion? That would take a shot at your dignity, wouldn't it?" Troye goaded and Tyler felt the simmering fire growing. Tyler knew that Troye was being difficult on purpose, maybe he needed a little push.

_'Maybe I should have lied'_

He untangled Troye's legs from his waist and straddled his stomach before he leaned down until their noses touched. He looked intensely into Troye's mocking eyes, both equally unwavering. "It's just my name. Say it, Troye." His voice soft but not weak.

"If it's _just_ your name, then I don't see the reason why you insist I call you that." Troye retorted again and broken the last straw.

"Damn it, Troye! Why can't you just say it? What are you so afraid of? Do you think that once you say it, you would start to grow feelings out of your stony heart? Are you not capable of handling anything more than lust?"

Tyler watched as the plump lips pressed into a thin line. "Now, now, detective. Calm down. I thought we were having fun? You like fucking me and I like being fucked by you, since when does _feelings_ come into this?"

_'Cause all I have to offer is my love'_

"Bullshit! I call bullshit, Troye! I know you feel it too! This may have started out as just fucking but it hasn't been just that for a long time, Troye!"

"Okay, look. Fun's over, detective. Would you be so kind and get off of me? My arms are killing me and I think I can't feel my fingers." Troye wiggled his body under Tyler and pulled on the restraint around his wrists above his head.

_'It's not enough'_

  
"Oh, so this is all fun and games for you, is it, Troye? Is that why you hacked into my laptop and put a trace onto my phone?" Tyler spitted out. The sense of satisfaction was quickly overwhelmed by guilt as he watched Troye's face morphed from angry to shocked and then, scared. But he saw the scene unfolding like a speeding train, bound to crash and he couldn't stop it even if he wanted to.

"Yes, Troye. You thought you've been clever, haven't you? You thought that you're a slippery little fish who could slip through cracks undetected? Well, you thought wrong. Tell me, Troye. What do you want with those files? Did you get bored of your petty thefts and think you could sell off confidential federal government information to its highest bidder? I have to say, your plan is almost perfect; seducing a fellow detective to gain valuable information, I bet you were spending all that money and laughing behind my back with _Oliver_!"

Tyler saw that his expression turned cold, his eyes blackened and his lips twitched. "Stop it."

"How did you choose your target, huh? Who came up with the plan? Did your little boyfriend concoct the whole scheme and asked you to sell your body to me because he couldn't pickpocket for a living anymore? That's incredibly ironic, really. A con artist got mugged and slashed on both wrists, he must have felt utterly useless to have lost all functions to his hands!"

"I said stop it, stop it, STOP IT!" Troye shouted and glared at Tyler with a hateful snare. "Fuck you, detective. Stop talking about him like you know him. You don't fucking know what you're talking about! So, FUCK, YOU!"

His mouth working faster than his brain. "Oh, I thought you wanted _me_ to fuck _you_ just a minute ago?" He taunted.

"I hate you. I fucking hate you right now. Get off of me and uncuff me. _FUCKING UNCUFF ME_!"

Nothing else had to be said. Tyler had known this would be the end as soon as the first word came out of him. He had unknowingly given Troye an ultimatum; choose now or the past, choose him or the life before him. It was like his hopes were placed atop a house of cards and Troye had just summoned a mother of all storms to blast the cards into shreds. Troye made his choice and it wasn't him, Tyler's made his bed and now he had to lie in it.

He moved away from Troye and retrieved the small key from the nightstand and released Troye from the metal restraint. Defeatedly, he watched as Troye paced around the room to pick up his article of clothing, his body trembling in what Tyler assumed to be anger. He hadn't witness this side of Troye before and until just now. He realised that it was a blessing in disguise that he'd never see this side of Troye before. The pang of guilt slowly risen from deep within as he felt responsible for the trembling mess in front of him. He tried to shove it down, tried to remember the reason that started all these but one look at Troye's profile as he tried to pry the door of the bedroom open, Tyler saw; silent tears trickling down his porcelain cheek and he felt like someone took a knife to his heart and twisted it for good measure. His immediate reaction was calling out to Troye just as he was storming out of the room.

"Wait! I'm sorry."

_'But I look at you and hope that you'll be fine'_

Troye paused in his steps and Tyler counted the seconds until Troye spoke, his voice low and noticeably dead. "Go to hell, Tyler."

 

 _All I wanna say is it'll be alright,_  
Maybe I should have lied.  
'Cause all I have to offer is my love,  
It's not enough.

_Lontalius - All I Wanna Say_

 

 


	14. fourteen

_**Warning: Mention of depression, violence, self-harm, suicide and death. Just a friendly reminder that there may be some triggering materials in this chapter.** _

_The atmosphere was in its constant solemnness and the mood surrounding it lacked its mirth. It was as quiet as a repressed mime and the burden hung in the air like dead weight. With each day that passed, Troye felt it gets thicker and heavier, and he had to draw in long breaths just so he could fill his lungs to their capacity, or he feared they would collapse under the mounting heaviness._

_Troye let out a sigh as he put away the untouched bowl of chicken broth in the sink. He placed the back of his hand over his closed eyes and the small reprieve threatened to pull him over to the land of sleep. He was exhausted, his body utterly spent and his mind tired from the constant fight to keep the optimism alive._

_It has been too long. Too long till the he could smile without any worry again, too long till he could breathe freely again. He was trying hard to keep the fire alight. It was no torch, more like a flimsy fire from a tiny little match stick. But he will make do, he has to make do with what he got, he has to find a way out of this darkness. Oh, it was dark, so dark that sometimes he'd forgotten what light looks like._

_And sometimes he wished that he hadn't said 'yes' when Oliver proposed to him six months ago._

_Because six months ago, he was happy. Six months ago, he had a great life. He had wonderful friends, he was healthy, his career path was bright and he had a wonderful doting boyfriend who loves him for who he is. Life was treating him good and he was contently happy._

_But then Oliver proposed._

_He had proposed on the morning of his birthday and he cheekily tried to guilt Troye into saying 'yes' by making a grand gesture of how it would make it the best birthday present he would ever receive. Frankly, silly Oliver needn't do that, for Troye had every intention to say 'yes' even if Oliver had gifted him a dried twig instead of the gorgeous silver band in that black velvet box. Of course he had said 'yes', a million times over 'yes' and Oliver kisses him until he couldn't breathe. Then, he told Troye to wait for him because he had something special planned to commemorate the significance of that night._

_And so, Troye waited. Giddily, he waited. Floating on air as Troye felt light as a feather, he waited. Feeling so lucky and blessed to have found love and trust again, he waited. The sun was replaced by the moon and he waited._

_But unaware was Troye of the man who he loves being pushed into a dark alley just a few blocks away. Unaware was Troye of the man who is his fiancé being threatened with a hand knife to his throat. Unaware was Troye of the man who single-handedly thawed his cold heart and taught him to love again, was bleeding on the ground of the dirty back alley, the wounds on his wrists fresh and raw._

_He waited, smiling from ear to ear, until the phone call that changed everything. It had robbed Troye of his utmost happiness in a split second moment. As the smile fell from his face, so did the tears. He let himself cry for a whole minute before he stopped and rushed to the hospital. And it all went downhill from there._

_The police was saying to him, 'Don't worry, we'll do our best to catch the person responsible.' And the doctor was saying to him, 'Don't worry, we'll make sure he's comfortable.'. But no one actually said anything that could help him understand this nightmare. Why did this happen? How did it happen? Who pointed a knife at Oliver? Why did he have to hurt Oliver? How did the supposedly happiest day of his life took such a drastic turn for the worse?- All the questions he finds himself asking._

_Then, he heard it. The desperate sound of sobbing from the man he loves, deranged and hysterical. "Oh God, no! Doctor, please! I beg you. You have to help me! My hands, I can't feel my hands!"_

_Troye's heart broke. His heart broke for the man he loves for he knew the worse had just became worst._

_Never in his life imagined he'd see such a shell of a man whom Oliver used to be. Oliver was still Oliver, but at the same time, he wasn't. He was still as handsome but his eyes often lacking the sparkles when he smile. He was still as witty but his jokes often turns morbid. His laughter was still as soundly but there was no joy in it._ But he was healthy, that's all that matters. _Troye often caught himself thinking that but he knew it was the biggest lie he'd ever told himself._

_Seeing the man he loves slowly fades away was starting to kill him. He didn't know what to do or how to act anymore whenever Oliver is concerned. "But why did he have to cut my wrists? I gave him everything, did everything he asked. Why, Troye? Can you tell me why?" Troye didn't have an answer. So, he looked in the eyes of the man he loves and said, "I don't know." And watched him weep as if his answer was a sentence of his eminent death._

_The good days were rarer than not. He eats, bathes, talks and sometimes even sings but most of the time he would jolt awake screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night, clawing at the angry red welts on his wrists, wailing and drenched in sweat. Then, he would cry himself back to sleep and wake up the next morning like the night before hadn't happened. Troye tried to talk to him but he brushed it away like Troye was crazy._

_And then one day, when Troye thought things were improving, Oliver shot his hopes down._

_"Oh my god, Ollie! Stop it, what are you doing? You're gonna hurt yourself!" Troye said, his heart immediately scared for Oliver as he watched Oliver grabbing anything and everything within reach in his shaky hands and flung them to the wall. He was like a mad man triggered, hysterical and manic and one look into the equally manic eyes, Troye was beginning to wonder if he should be scared of Oliver too. But he didn't have time to assess that when Troye had to duck a piece of the broken vase that flew his way. And it squashed whatever doubts that were troubling Troye._

_"Ollie, please! It's me, Troye. Stop, please, Ollie! You're scaring me!" Troye begged again but Oliver didn't listen, he didn't stop. He kept going at it; knocking off everything on their work table and trashing their paintings and kept screaming until his voice was raw. Troye just stood by the door, his fingers curled intensely on the doorframe and he watched as the painful meltdown unraveling right in front of him. He just stood because he didn't know what to do, and he cried because he didn't know how to make the pain go away, for himself but mostly for Oliver._

_Then, as if he'd used up all of his energy, Oliver swayed in his steps and stopped his agonising outburst. He was out of breath, he sagged back and slid down the wall and sat brokenly on the floor amongst the sea of broken things around him. Defeatedly, he fixed his delirious gaze onto the ugly scars across his wrists, spiteful and mocking him of the life he'd lost in exchange of them. And in that hateful second, Oliver grabbed one of the broken piece of glass on the floor and made one last deep cut across the scars. Troye screamed._

_Since that day, Oliver was entirely gone. He rarely eats, rarely sleeps and didn't talk at all. He was losing colours on his face, he was down to his skin and bones and Troye felt a painful tug in his chest whenever he look into Oliver's eyes. Only that they weren't Oliver's eyes._

_Those eyes were ghostly, they were dull and always staring into nothingness. Ghostly and rimmed red at all times due to the constant tearing. It was just tearing. It wasn't the sobbing kind, nor the wailing kind and not even the yelling and howling kind; just droplets of tears, silently trickling down Oliver's sunken cheeks._

_And Troye was exhausted, very much so. But he still cling on to the littlest of hope that they could pull through. Their friends told him he was a fool, but he didn't listen. Because he of all people, truly wanted his Oliver back. And he believed that given time, Oliver will come back. So much so, it almost made him go mad with denial when he came home one afternoon and saw the lifeless body of Oliver, hanging from the ceiling fan in their living room. The agony that he went through felt like death itself, having to witness the man he loves gave up on hope and ultimately gave up on life._

_The funeral was simple, family and close friends only. After the rabbi recited his prayers, each one of the mourners took their turn to fill the grave, their face sympathetic and remorseful. They offered their condolences to Troye and Troye replied with a downcast nod, beside him a teary-eyed Edith sobbed, grief-stricken. Then, it was his turn to say goodbye._

_He stepped close to the black casket, his hand rested on the smooth surface and he felt the coldness slowly neutralizing the heat on his palm. It was a moment of absolute silence as he said his final words to the man he loved, hoping he'd find his light on the other side. A handful of dirt sprinkled, a brush of lips across the silver band on his finger and he slid it out to rest it on the casket. At that moment, it felt final. Oliver was gone._

_He retreated as the casket was lowered into the ground and a soft hand came from behind him to intertwine with his. She stood beside him like his pillar of strength as they watched Oliver being put to rest in peace. Her presence gifted him a small abatement that he didn't know he needed. It felt warm and comforting and Troye took a long breath as a sudden wave of emotion wrecked through him. His grip on her soft hand tighten and his body began to shake from the repressed emotions and tears._

_The sweet scent of rose filled his senses as she rested her head on his shoulder. She always did that because she knew him well, she knew the gesture would ground him. Then her other hand came up and stroked his arm, because she knew him well, she knew the gesture would comfort him. "It's okay, Toki. You can cry. I'm here for you." She spoke with a hush, her voice soft and accepting. It was like Troye was waiting for her to say it, and with that, he cried._


	15. fifteen

The fickle hours had slowly blurred into days and Tyler was nose deep in his case file. Flipping through pages after pages, his eyes darted from one line to the next in a pace that could rival the rapid current down the stream. He was immersed in it, completely drawn and he didn't have a care for the time that had passed him by nor did he realized it. He slicked the pad of his thumb against his tongue and turned the report to its next page, urgently going through it like his life depended on it.

In a way, his life was depended on it. His future, his _happiness_ was depended on it, hanging by the flimsiest of thread and he was desperate, fuelling him to his limit to salvage it.

It was only when there was a _thump_ on his door that had snapped him out of his reverie. He lost his place in the report and rubbed his eyes, dry and irritated from straining too long on the blotted words and discolored photos. A brief exhale later, he looked at the clock on the opposite wall from where he was seated.

The hands on the clock was telling him it ten past eight, and only then he became conscious of the sunlight peeking through the blinds through his window. It was morning and the dull _thump_ on his door just now would have been the papers. _That'll have to wait,_ he thought as he raised his arms over his head and stretched out the kinks he felt on his shoulders, relishing in the fact that he had been up and working for almost thirty two hours continuously. He grabbed the mug beside a stack of unread files and drained the last drop of the cold coffee before he made his way to the kitchen with the intention to get a refill.

He turned on the tap and looked aimlessly as the stream of water sloshed in the pot. He placed the filled pot over the stove and lighted it up, and as he waited for the water to boil, he perched his arms on the kitchen island, his eyes taking in the state of his apartment and calculated the probability of his eyes going blind by the amount of reading that he has to go through by himself for the next couple of days. He had regrettably ordered to see six years worth of old case files, and he was starting to feel the repercussion from it. He ought to chide himself for attempting to read through all those files when Marcus was blissfully back in London attending his brother's wedding, but he didn't. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he let out an audible sigh as he thought of the incident that started this hectic madness.

A few days after his supposedly fall out with Troye, he was being called to San Francisco to assist in one of the missing girl's case. He was there for two days, and he'd just came back to his apartment and collapsed onto his couch in exhaustion when he sensed that the privacy of his home was being invaded once again.

_"Hey, detective. I'd appreciate a little help, please."_

_Tyler thought he heard a voice talking to him but in his exhaustion-addled brain, he dismissed it without thinking twice. Just as he was about to close his eyes and drift into the desired sleep, he heard an incessant knocking and he jumped awake, eyes darting across the room to identify where the sound was coming from._

_"Over here, bruh. Would you mind hurry up? I may have just found out that I have a substantial fear of heights."_

_Tyler looked over to his window and saw someone that looked unmistakably like Caspar, shivering outside. He shook his head in disbelief and considered leaving him out there until he goes away. He contemplated, for less than a minute and in the end, he stood up from the couch and strutted over to unlock his window. Caspar clumsily climbed in and almost falling over when he tripped over his own feet before Tyler locked his window again and turned towards Caspar._

_"What the fuck, Caspar. Fire escape? Really? I should have you arrested for trespassing." Tyler blasted immediately._

_"That was far out! You don't know how happy I am to see you, bruh. And thanks for saving my life. That was literally the scariest thing that I've ever done, and I have been surrounded by a group of cougars before with only my spandex on. And really, those cougars were coming at me like shark to blood and-" Caspar stopped in the middle of his rambling when he saw the glare Tyler shot him. "Okay, okay. Don't give me that look. Your doorman won't let me in and I remembered Troye telling me about the fire escape but I wasn't expecting it to be locked because the last time Troye used it, it wasn't. I guess you got smart about that and-"_

_"Cut the crap, Caspar. I'm gonna ask you one more time. What are you doing here?" Tyler asked as he watched Caspar shake off the droplets of water out of his matted hair. It was starting to drizzle a little, Tyler noticed but he was too alerted by Caspar's presence to care and returned his attention to the blonde nuisance in front of him._

_"Uhm, to come talk to you? I thought that was obvious, especially for a fellow detective but I guess there's always an exception."_

_"Caspar..." Tyler said warningly._

_"Okay, okay. Geez, no need to give me an attitude."_

_"Look, I don't care what kind of agenda you and Troye have right now and whatever you guys have planned, just leave me out of it. I'm not interested. So, if you don't mind, please leave. I need to get to work."_

_"Huh, I thought you just came back? Ah, okay. I know how it is. I don't usually do this and I'd feel extremely awkward to be stuck in the middle of your lover's quarrel but Troye's my mate and I kinda owe him one for the yoga class which I probably shouldn't mention it since you won't know anything about that so anyway, my point is, what happened last Friday, bruh? Now, just making this clear, you don't have to describe everything in detail to me because that was between you and him but whatever you've said to him, I need you to unsay it. It's not cool, bruh. He's been a mess ever since. I think that you should be the bigger man and go apologize to him or something, you know, since you're older and stuff."_

_"What? Unsay-? You want me to apolo- you know what? Nevermind. You're really a piece of work, Caspar. It boggles me that you still have the nerve to come here and ask me to apologize to him when the reality is that he's the one with the intention to cheat, lie and steal things from me." Tyler said and immediately felt an unwanted tug in his chest. That was uncalled for. He hated that Troye had made him feel the guilt even when he was the one being lied to._

_"Oh." Caspar simply said as he stared dumbly at Tyler._

_"Yeah, oh. So, go now before I lose my patience and decides to escort you back to the precinct and throw you in jail for soliciting against a law enforcer." Tyler spewed as he tried to shove Caspar towards his front door._

_Caspar held up his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, wait, wait, wait. So, you found out about that and fought? No, that shouldn't be it. I mean, Troye is a mess, like, he's a total wreck! I don't think I have seen him like this since his fiancé died."_

_Tyler halted his movement and looked at Caspar, bewildered. "What did you say? His.. fiancé?"_

_"Err, yeah? I guess he didn't mention he was once engaged to Mrs A's grandson?" Caspar asked and he cringed when Tyler didn't asnwer._

_"Yikes. Well, I don't know if I feel comfortable telling you about this, bruh. I mean, it's not really my story to tell. But it was such a sad tale, bruh. So very sad." Caspar scrunched his eyebrows together and his voice turned low. "When we heard the news, we couldn't believe it. And of course, Troye took it the hardest, you know? We all knew Oliver was still depressed over his injury and all, but we didn't think he'd really resort to taking his own life? Like, fuck. Troye was just out for maybe fifteen minutes to get Oliver's prescription refilled and then he had to go back home and witness that.. Ugh, I just got the chills all over again."_

_Injury. Prescription. Depressed._

_He felt as though a lighting had struck him from behind, making him dizzy and breathless as his mind slowly piecing the pieces together. "Oliver.. killed himself?"_

_"Yeah. It was shocking. And so unfair. I mean, they were such a power couple in the art scene back in the day, and Oliver just got signed his first show with one of the most prominent curator in Paris. Everything was going so great and then boom! Oliver got attacked by a mugger and then whoosh! Just like that, everything went to shit."_

_Paris. Attacked._

_"Troye was a fucking mess for a long time. But thank goodness his sister was there for him, you know? They are exceptionally close and she grieved with him, all the way."_

_Sister._

_"Sister?"_

_"Oh, come on, bruh! Please tell me he at least mentioned about Sage to you before? Un-believable!"_

_His hands were starting to sweat. His breathing was caught in his throat and his head was spinning with all the new insights of how Troye's life have been before he knew him. He wished that Caspar hadn't told him, because the knowledge posed to be a deadly reminder of just how utterly wrong his assumptions were. All the pieces were falling into place like a hailstorm hitting the earth and the end piece was horrifically disfigured, staring back at him with a sneer._

_"Are you okay, bruh? You looked like you've just ran over someone's puppy by accident. Wait, why do you look like you've just ran over someone's puppy by accident?"_

_"I-.. I-.." Tyler stumbled backward a little and muttered a soft 'fuck' under his breath while he ran his hand through his hair._

_"Oh no, detective. What did you do? What did you say to him?"_

_"I-.. I saw one of the files that Troye pulled from my database and it was an ongoing investigation for a mugging incident. I didn't know Oliver was... dead."_

_"Oh. Oh, dear. Is this the moment when you realised you've really fucked up, like, royally? Come on, bruh. I thought you cops have to have alibis and proofs and all that shit before you can throw someone's ass in jail, right? Like, you could have made sure you've gotten all your facts right. That's someone's puppy, bruh! Not cool! What? Did you managed to rub it in his face about how Sage left him while you're at it? Jesus! No wonder Troye is a fucking mess."_

_Troye._

_"His sister left him?" Tyler asked curiously._

_Caspar flung his arms out and slapped his thighs in frustration."I can't believe I did it again. Godammit, you cops are really good at prying information out of people, aren't you?"_

_"Caspar..."_

_"Fine, fine. She didn't exactly 'leave' him. It's just that she didn't come home one day about a year after Oliver's death and we don't know where she's gone to or what happened to her. Troye have been trying to look for her ever since."_

_"Why didn't he go to the police for help?"_

_"How the fuck would I know? He isn't the easiest person to convince to do something that he doesn't want to. I thought you should at least know that, since you two have been, you know, fucking for almost a year now. But then again, you didn't seemed too observant. I mean like, you have been working for a mole all this time and you guys didn't even know it." Caspar clamped his hand over his mouth as soon as the last words came out but it was too late. Tyler had heard him, loud and clear._

_Caspar didn't think there was any chance Tyler was going to let him leave without some kind of clarification. So he told him what was necessary, about that night at the masquerade ball, when Troye had heard his familiar voice by chance, and immediately made the connections. The person under the lion mask is the key._

The sizzling sound of water coming in contact with the hot stove snatched him out of his fog. He quickly turned the heat off before he grabbed a dry tablecloth nearby and dabbed at the spilled water on the stove. He rubbed the back of his hand over his forehead as tried to make sense of the information that Caspar had told him.

His first reaction was denial. The thought of even an ounce of truth in what Caspar had said was unfathomable to him. But he was trained to think rationally, so what Caspar said had prompted him to backtrack all those cold cases of the missing girls. The more he read, the more he felt like the foundation of his reality unearthing underneath him, shaking his world into a fainting mess. And with that, the hidden evidence was slowly bubbling up to the surface and the credibility of Caspar's words get more and more glaring.

All of those cases were different in the nature of their crimes but they all have one startling consistency; they were all signed off by the same person. And that person, the same person under the lion mask, was the chief of his precinct, John Green.

And once he had come to allow himself to accept this possibility, and it was as if a haze had been cleared, the truth had slowly began to emerge from amongst the unsuspecting regularity. The monopolization of the syndicate throughout the years, breaking the law without any serious consequences and more often than not, he finds himself having a personal vendetta against Sam Pepper, for he is the one who kept slipping through his fingers. And now, the answer had been staring at him all these time; the mole is someone situated comfortably in the higher authority.

But that still didn't quite explain to him how Troye had known that information, or where he might have possibly met John before. He couldn't bring himself to believe that Troye had any association with the syndicate, and he was all the more ready to trust Caspar's reassurance. And then, there was Sage. That was the other part of the puzzle that has been gnawing at him, igniting his urge to find her for Troye, just so he could atone a small fraction of wrongs that he bears. _Something's missing. What is it_? Tyler asked himself.

All of a sudden, something in his mind clicked. Like a lose kite got caught in the branches of a tree, the whirlwind of information swimming in his head was caught in the forefront of his brain. _Sage._ _._ _SM._ _._ _Holy_ _fuck_ _!_ Tyler rushed out from his kitchen like a bat out of a cave, his movement frantic and almost caused him to hit the sharp corner of the kitchen island. He scrambled over to the 'read' pile of files set aside on the floor, grabbing one of them from the bottom and rummaging through the pages of reports until he found what he was looking for.

 _Case No.:_ _37169_   
_Name:_ _Human Trafficking (2014) - Israel_  
 _List of suspected victims_  
 _1\. Jessica Ann Mcdougal (American)_  
 _2\. Talia Yadin (Israeli)_  
 _3\. Francesca Marie Dubois (French)_  
 _4._ ** _S_** _age_ ** _M_** _ellet (unknown)_

"Fuck!"


	16. sixteen

It was as though he was watching the memories of his past through a telescope. The distance was like lightyears away and yet he could still see every detail in every frame so clearly, they robbed the breaths out of his lungs. Each solemn look continued to gut his insides and each howling cry was a stab to his bleeding heart. He had grieved as passionately as he had loved, and the burden he carried on his shoulders was as heavy then as it was now.

That Friday had been a complete surprise to him. The day started off pretty abruptly, when Tyler had popped by the loft at five o'clock in the morning, ever so ready to drag him out of his warm bed. As bewildered and reluctant as he was, he didn't think it was such a bad idea to just give in to Tyler's rude wake up call. The reason was simple; for all the time they'd spent together, he had known that Tyler was always prepared, and he knew that Tyler would have came to rouse him from his sleep with some pretty convincing incentives. Which, of course, in Troye's world, the incentives meant a cup of properly brewed coffee from his favourite deli down the street and the freshly baked, just-out-of-the-oven chocolate Danish.

And true enough, the mix of aromas of the coffee and the pastry perfumed the air abundantly. It was one of his favourite scent to wake up to, and it always cleared the haze of sleep from his head. That, and coupled with the little kisses Tyler doused all over his face. They always did it for him.

He had realised it for quite some time now, his feelings for this man. The fluttering butterflies in his stomach whenever they touched, the strong urge to steal distracting kisses from those chapped lips when he was bored, and the giggles that threatened to spill from his mouth when they wake up together in the morning, limbs tangled up with each other. For some masochistic reason, he had allowed himself to feel more than he should, had allowed it to grow until it fills up the void that was his heart. And on that Friday, the feeling threatens to overflow and suffocate him in the sweetest way possible.

It was perfect. Tyler was perfect. After Troye had dressed in his skinny jeans, a white t-shirt and a red varsity jacket that he'd bought from a vintage store downtown, Tyler had dragged him to Central Park before the first light of the sun burst through the horizon. Fingers intertwined, they swung their arms lightly in between them as they strolled towards a bench overlooking the lake and sat, basking in the tranquility of their surrounding. They sat in the cold for almost an hour, cuddling closely together on the park bench while sipping the cups of steaming coffee clasped tightly in their respective hands, and they waited patiently for the first sign of light to irradiate the park.

The sunrise, it was a sight of unearthly beauty. The long wait in the cold was every bit the worth, as the stream of orange slowly eclipsing the grey, lifting the curtain of darkness so effortlessly. It was a pristine moment, one that was absolute and encouraging, one that called out to him to loosen the deathly grip on his restraints, his inhibitions, and ultimately his fears. It was a moment when the urge was to let this beautiful man into his life like he had into his heart. But he was torn. His heart desired the things that his brain couldn't allow. He wanted to be spoilt by this man, to get drunk by his love, to confess his deepest regret and fear but the hush whispers in the back of his mind told him that he couldn't, not when he knew the danger awaiting down this path.

So instead, he just feel. He had allowed himself to indulge in the possibility, a brief escape from his reality and delight in the bubble of bliss that pulls the warmth from deep within him. And just in that moment, everything else ceased to exist, for Tyler is the only thing that he needs.

And then later that night, there was a moment when Tyler was connected so deep in him, he felt it again. The love that Tyler put into his thrusts, he felt it to the very core of his bones and it frightened him immensely. He wanted very much to reach out and capture the it with both hands and never let it go, but the grip of fear kept pulling him back. The moment was getting all too intense and Troye pulled the switch and stopped the current of tenderness that was thrumming from Tyler to him. He recoiled, hard, and reverted back to the shameless slut that he had portrayed so flawlessly.

Then came the accusations. He was more shocked by them than the fact that he had been found out. He knew that he couldn't possibly be hiding his deceits for too long, for he knew that papers can't possibly wrap up the embers without being burnt. And he had every intention of coming clean with Tyler someday, when the time is right. But the time _wasn't_ right.

And he knew his right to be upset was revoked as soon as he went behind Tyler's back. But when Tyler kept goading him with baseless accusations about him, about Oliver, about him _and_ Oliver, he just lost it. The words had stung and the thought that Tyler was so ready to believe the worst in him had hurt him terribly. Maybe it was fueled by disappointment, by anger but it felt all the same for Troye because it was a clear judgement of how Tyler saw him. In that split second, he had come so close to telling Tyler the truth, just so he could reap the satisfaction of seeing the guilt emerging from the depths of Tyler's eyes. But he didn't, and he left the apartment with a harsh acceptance that he was leaving so many lost opportunities behind in his wake.

Then he grieved again, for his past and for his future. He grieved so displeasingly, he alarmed the people around him. Caspar kept prodding and even Mrs A came asking, but he bears the burden alone, for he knew he couldn't risk more of the people that he cares for and loves.

But when Marcus had visited him two weeks after that fateful Friday, he realised he'd already risked too much. Despite the initial hostility, Marcus was surprisingly quite understanding. He didn't immediately penalised Troye for the lies that he had told by omission, but instead was offered an opportunity to wipe the slate clean and start afresh with him. Troye could definitely see why Tyler valued his partner so much, because in that moment, he'd wished that he could accept Marcus's offer and begin to develope a friendship with him. He really did.

But what comes out of Marcus's mouth next was alarming. He felt the chills clawing down his spine, awakening his nerve ends along the way. The fine hairs at the back of his neck and on his arms stood up with every word spoken. Marcus was unaware of the effect his words were to Troye, for he was as ignorant as a rooster out of season, crowing at midnight.

 _"Well, I better get going then. I don't fancy to be the receiving end of his wrath for engaging you for too long. I know he can be quite grumpy when he doesn't get his way." Marcus said. "And also, tell him that the chief has assigned his caseloads to me. So, now he owes me one. He could have at least given me a warning before he decides to take a long vacation right after I come back from London. And I sure hope he'll have a good one, and maybe spend some of those vacation_ outside _of your loft." He chuckled by the end of his sentence, grinning cheekily at the insinuation of his words at Troye._

_"Vacation?" Troye asked, incredulously._

_"Yeah, didn't he say anything to you? For the love of God, don't you kids do anything else for the entire week besides shagging the shite out of each other? Nope, don't tell me. I don't really wanna know but tell him to at least send me a text once in a while to let me know he's not dead from orgasm overdose or something, okay?" Marcus chuckled again before he waved him goodbye and made his exit._

As he watched Marcus's back retreated further back until it disappear around the corner of his building, only did he registered the vigorous slamming of his heart against his chest, rendering him breathless. Marcus's words had felt like punches to his guts and he inhaled sharply, willing his lungs to obey and take in the fresh air just so he could think properly. Marcus had implied that he hadn't had any form of contact with Tyler for the entire week. He was in fact happily under the impression that Tyler was spending that week with Troye at his loft. _An entire week_ , and Tyler's whereabouts were not known even to his own partner.

_Oh my god._

His mind reeled and he felt dizzy from the constant shaking of the ground underneath him. He stumbled forward and grabbed a hold on the wall of his apartment building, and then he realised that he was the one shaking, trembling and bursting out in cold sweat. He felt the panic started to grow, and the mounting pressure was pressing against his chest that it made him almost lose his consciousness. The anxiety was unforgiving and the grip of fear tugging at his core was paralysing him.

_Oh my god. No. No. No. Not him!_

He shook away those taunting thoughts as he panted harshly against the wall. Hand to his cold forehead and he clamped his eyes shut to gain back any sort of control over his own body. Minutes passed, or maybe just seconds, he quickly made his way back into the loft and went straight to the bathroom. He tore the shower curtain aside and climbed on the rim of the bathtub, carelessly balancing himself on it as he reached for the grille of the air vent. It was sealed quite tightly but Troye yanked it off with sheer determination and the grille dropped on the bathroom floor with a loud _clank_. He extended his hand into the air vent and began feeling blindly for a small box that he had shoved inside there a long while ago. As his hand came in contact with the box, he quickly tore it open and retrieved the item inside, sighing his relief as the screen lighted up when he turned it on. There was only one contact being saved in that phone, and he knew he had no choice but to do it. And so he did.

Four long and agonising rings later, Troye heard the click on the other end of the phone indicating his call was being connected. He took a long calming breath before he spoke into the phone, his voice dripping with utmost hate. "What the fuck have you done to him?

***

He was happy. For some unexplained reason, he felt utterly, deliriously happy. Every breath he took inspired a smile and every thought that passed through his mind made him want to giggle out loud. Everything felt incredibly fun and light, like he was floating and soaring freely up in the sky. He felt nice, warm and he never wanted this feeling to end.

But just as the thought flashed pass his conscious mind, he felt the feeling dissipating slowly. The fog of warm happiness dispersing around him and as soon as the haze lifted, the harsh reality had came crashing down on him and he perished.

He was alone and miserable. The floor against his back was hard and cold, and he couldn't stop his body from shivering. He hadn't known how long he had been in there, for he had been slipping in and out of consciousness quite frequently. The room was extremely dark. Aside from the thin slit at the bottom of the locked door, it was completely deprived of any light. Was he dreaming? No. Dreams wouldn't let him feel any kind of pain. And his whole body was throbbing in it, like every nerves on his body had been opened and poked at mercilessly. Even breathing began to feel like a great effort.

So he started to draw in longer and deeper breaths but that had prompted him into a coughing fit. The pressure on his chest was causing him to wheeze with each cough and the searing pain on his sides made his eyes water. He turned his body to the side and curled his knees up to his chest, just so he could ease the pain a little.

Then, he heard them. The echoes of shoes scuffing across the cement floor coming nearer in his direction. They stopped in front of the metal door, before sliding it open with a piercing screech as the rough metal on the hinges scraped against each other. The footsteps clickity-clack nearer to him until they stopped just above his head before he felt a rough hand patted down his cheek, pressing his face more firmly onto the cold floor.

"Wakey, wakey, sleeping beauty. Time to go. It's show time, princess." The voice sang.

The sudden brightness poured into the room made his eyes squint. He looked up and tried to pry his eyes open, only to see a blurry face of a man just a good couple of inches away from him. Then, he spat at him.

"You useless piece of shit!" That man snarled at him like an animal.

The blow to his nose was excruciating, he could feel the blood trickling down his nose after and pooled to the corner of his lips. His body jerked as that man yanked his shirt by the collar, and he braced himself for another blow, but it never came.

 _"That's enough, Maz. Sam doesn't like to be kept waiting_." The other voice was a little bit more distant, and he guessed that it must belonged to someone standing outside of the room.

"Fuck you, Harries. I have been working for the man for longer than you and your little brother ever have. So, shut the fuck up before I cut that mouth of yours off of your pretty little face and feed it to the rats!" That man barked at the other before he returned his attention back to him.

"And as for you, I'll have my fun later. If you're still alive after Sam is done with you, that is. It's a promise from me, princess." The man said sinisterly and the last thing he remembered was a sting in his arm followed by a surge of pressure. Then, he felt nothing.

***

Troye felt a little faint as he walked along the long stretch of hallway towards the black door that was waiting for him at the very end. The hallway was brightly lit, with the intricate wall lamps decorated a few feet away from one another on each side of the wall. The floor was covered in plush carpet, and coupled with the sangria-red wall paper, the hallway was sending out vibes that made Troye utterly uneasy. He closed his fists so tightly that his blunt fingernails was beginning to cut into the inside of his palms. A few steps more and he was standing in front of the black mahogany door, feeling intimidated by the inanimate object. His breath halted before he forced himself to take in a deep breath, and then he lifted his fist and gave the door a firm knock.

The door swung open to reveal a familiar face. And for some reason, even in this incredibly unpleasant circumstance, the familiar face give him a tiny bit of comfort. He nodded at him, acknowledged him, before he gestured for him to follow. Quietly, Troye did, keeping about two steps behind him as they descended down a spiral staircase, destination unknown. The atmosphere had changed drastically; the contrast in temperature was astoundingly huge and the flickering lights hanging on the rail of the stairs had pushed his anxiety to its limit. And just before they reach another door at the bottom of the stairs, he heard his own voice rang softly through the stagnant air.

"Is he alive?"

The man halted in his steps and turned to look at him, his face betraying nothing.

"Please, Jack. Just tell me this. Is he? Alive?" Troye asked again. No. He _begged_. When it had taken Jack a title too long to answer, Troye began to feel the bile slowly bubbling up to his tight throat as he assumed the worst.

Then, he saw Jack gave him a curt nod, and immediately felt a rush of relief washed through him. The man turned back to the door and unlocked it before he swung it forward, revealing a vastness of darkness inside.

"He's waiting." Jack said to him. And just as Troye was about to ask who he had meant, the room was suddenly flooded with light, and his gaze was immediately pulled towards the unconscious figure being bound and tied to a chair in the middle of the room.

"Oh god!" Troye cried out as he ran over to him as fast as his trembling legs allowed and dropped down onto his knees in front of the chair.

"Tyler! Oh my god!" Troye grabbed him by his shoulders and he tried to shake him awake.

"Tyler, can you hear me? Please! Come on, come on, Tyler! Wake up!" Troye half cried, half yelled at him, hoping that in some miraculous way Tyler will be able to hear him. But instead, his head just rolled from side to side, his eyes didn't flutter open and that was when Troye really took in the state Tyler was in.

His breathing was shallow, he was dirty and battered. The blood from the deep cut on his brow bone and the bridge of his nose had dried up in thick flakes. Troye saw before he felt his hands shaking as he tried to push away the hardened strand of fringe on Tyler's forehead and went to cup those bruised cheeks gingerly.

"I'm so sorry, Tyler. You don't deserve this." Troye whimpered as he traced his thumbs from the corner of Tyler's eyes to his lips, and lingered there.

Then, his head snapped up and turned back towards the door that he had passed through just moments ago, just in time to catch the movement of the door being swung open again, and revealed to him the man whom he loathed with every fibre in his body. He stood up from the floor and clenched his fists tightly on his sides, his body shielding Tyler from that man and he felt his anger and hatred towards this man grow with each smirk that fell from that man's vile face. Then, the man pulled his lips into his signature boyish grin and spoke to him.

"Hello, spuddy. I've missed you."


	17. seventeen

Conflict. It denotes the struggle between two opposing forces to achieve victory. It's a predominant emotion that arised deep within oneself, consciously or otherwise, when faced with extreme indecisions. And extreme they were. Never in his life had he being thrown into such task that was so beyond the bounds of possibility. Choices were tossed at him so carelessly, like they were worth not more than pieces of scraps. But the decisions that he beared in his literal hands were nothing short of severe and they weighed a thousand times more than they should with each second that ticked by. A rock and an extremely hard place, he saw no way out of them without someone getting harmed. He has to do it, he has to decide. The walls were closing in and he can't think, can't breathe. Eyes closed, he can't bear to look in the eyes of those people that were depending on him. He can't bear to see the pleading look flickering on their faces, nor the hope, nor the love.

He has to decide, now more than ever. With one last exhale, he decided. Then, he pointed.

***

For all the time that Troye had spent crying over his past, he'd spent twice the time keeping them out of his present and making sure that they'll never be in his future. He had struggled but succeeded, to momentarily forget about all the pain derived from his past, to leave all that burnt him in a forbidden place and never look back, just so he could focus on finding his happiness again. But the thing about happiness, it never really sided with Troye. Lady Fate was being unreasonably cruel to him when he had done nothing to deserve such cruelty. Fairness, much like his happiness was never really there for him because if it was, then this wouldn't be happening.

Seeing that familiar face, he felt like he was sixteen all over again. It was a face of a sweet boy he once knew and loved with all his heart. But it was also a face of wretched lies, broken promises and hurtful betrayals. It was a face that taught him his first heartbreak and brought him all the misery that followed. It was his own personal curse, that face, that with one look at it, his whole reality warped into an unpleasant nightmare in just an instant. All of his repressed memories came gushing back to him like a tsunami, breaking down walls that he had erected around those memories without much difficulty. Time stood still and zoomed by at the same time, and he'd never hated someone like he had this man. And seeing that loathesome smirk on that face, his hatred was more now than it has ever been.

"Hello, spuddy. I've missed you."

Upon hearing the nickname again, he had to push the bile down with a harsh swallow before he could find his voice. "Emery."

"I haven't heard anyone call me by that name in a long time. Brings back a lot of memories. All good, I assure you." He said, his face a picture of daunting fondness. "But I go by another name now, haven't you heard? Your boyfriend here and everybody else, they know me by the name Sam Pepper. I'm quite famous, really."

It was only when Troye tasted the coppery saltiness in his mouth that he realised he had been biting on his jaw too hard. He forced himself to calm down and relaxed his tight fists on his sides before he regained his control to speak without stuttering. "I want you to let him go."

Troye watched as Sam sauntered in half a circle around them, their eyes still locked with each others'.

"Well, I can't do that. On the contrary of what you would've believed, I didn't seek for him. It was him who came looking for me. In fact, I think he had been trying to look for me for a long time now." Sam threw a smirk at Troye before he chuckled amusingly to himself. "Only this time, I've deliberately threw more crumbs for him to follow, you know, to aid him a little. He was quite the persistent little thing."

Troye's eyes followed the moving figure of Sam, still sauntering slowly in circles around them before he tried again. "He has nothing to do with this. Just.. let him go."

"See, that's where you're wrong, spuddy. He has everything to do with this." Sam halted in his steps and turned to face Troye.

"Stop calling me that." Troye chided.

"What? Spuddy? I used to remember there was a time when you would blush so lovingly when I call you that. So sweet and adorable."

"Go to hell, Emery. You're nothing but a scum that I regretted ever knowing. Our past had been reduced to nothing but lies and betrayals the minute you decided to take my father's money." Troye said with a hateful sneer and his anger was multiplied as he heard a throaty laugh from Sam.

"Oh, spuddy. Don't be such a sensitive little puppy. You can't hold me against that forever. If you wanna be pissed, you should be pissed at daddy dearest, not me. He was the one who had offered me the money, _a whole lot of them_ , and I think it'll be incredibly stupid of me if I turn that down. It's survival 101."

"I trusted you and I _defended_ you. And you fucking betrayed me to my father, left me to be the fool my father thought I was." Troye muttered tightly as he felt the poison in every word he spoke.

"Now, now. Don't make it out to be such a big deal than it actually is. I mean, okay. I admit, I was kind of a jerk to run off with your father's money and left you alone but that doesn't mean that my feelings for you weren't real or that it just went away after that."

"Spare me that speech. I don't think you've ever felt any real feelings in that screwed up heart of yours or that you even have one." Troye spewed quickly.

"Come on, spuddy. You know I've always adored you. Well, I did feel a little bad after that incident. So, I went back to look for you but you were already gone, out of the country, no less. You don't do things half-heartedly, do you? If you wanna avoid me, you don't have to go half way around the globe to do that." Sam kept talking as if he was reminiscing innocent tales of the first time he learnt to a ride bike or have his first taste of cigarette. "But you know very well you can't hide from me for too long. I followed you to the States soon after and I found you again, haven't I? That ought to score me some good ol' browny points with you, but you just outright shot me down."

"You're more demented that I thought you were, if you think I'd take you back after the stunt you pulled with my father. We're over then, and we're over now. Get that through that thick head of yours, Emery."

Sam stopped in his track and spun himself in the opposite direction. Then he continued as if he haven't heard anything that had came out of Troye's mouth. "But it's okay. I thought maybe you needed some time to process everything. So, I gave you the space that you needed, ample amount of it too. I mean, any _respectful_ , _understanding_ boyfriend would do the same. I kept my distance, I let you do your own thing and I was incredibly hopeful when you started that art school. I thought you're giving me a sign that you know I've been waiting for you to come back to me, a sign that you're ready to let go of the past, and that you're ready for us to be together again."

"You're borderline insane if you still think that I-"

"But then you met that _piece of shit_ that couldn't keep his eyes off of you since the first time he saw you. He kept making those disgusting googly eyes at you, like he was utterly besotted by you. And then predictably, you went and fell for that! Haven't you learnt your lesson, spuddy?"

"Don't you fucking dare talk about Oliver like that. He's ten times the man you'll ever be in your pathetic lifetime."

"Oh, cut the crap. He wasn't the saint that you made him up to be. He's just a normal person like the rest of us. But I guess with the smile that was constantly plastered on that sweet face, you just can't help it, can you? One look at it and you've forgotten that I'm still in your life." Sam threw his hands in the air and shot Troye a look of disgust before he continued his ramblings.

"And then you two started flirting so shamelessly, smiling and laughing without a care in the world. And the _touching_! Oh my god, I can't _stand_ to see him have his hands all over you. How dare he lay his filthy hands on what's mine? _You_ belonged to _me_!"

"I don't belong to you or anyone, you crazy son of a bitch. Oliver and I were in love!"

"NO! _You and I_ were in love! _You and I_ were meant to be together. I could have given you _the world_ if you'd ask me. We could have been so happy now, conquering the world together like we used to back then. But then what did you do? You refused me again and again, and then you went and engaged yourself to that useless garbage. He was weak, a coward! He's not worthy of you." Sam yelled like a mad man, his nose flaring with each harsh breath he took.

"He's not weak, you bastard!" Troye yelled back and he lifted the ball of fist to wipe away the tears that had streamed down his cheeks. "He's not a coward, you are! You're a coward and a fucking cold blooded murderer! Oliver had done you no wrong and you killed him!"

Sam shook his head and he began to stand a good few feet away from Troye now. "Oh no, no, no. Kill is such a strong word. As I recall I didn't do any of the sort. All I did was gave some money to some drug addict and instructed them to give Oliver's wrists some special attention. But I guess I didn't explain all that in the flower wreath I sent to the funeral house. They did quite a good job, don't you think? Messy, but a good job nonetheless."

The words almost made Troye threw up in his mouth. He clenched his eyes shut as the painful memory of the day at the funeral flashed to the front of his mind, where he had received an extravagant wreath from Emery. He soon made the connection that Emery was behind that mugging incident. At that time, he'd never felt such rage thrumming in his veins before, he felt like he could combust at any second. And to think that Emery had waited till that day to rub it in his face, he had wanted to kill. It was a mockery, a disrespectful insult to Oliver's memory and he had made quite the spectacle of himself when he trashed those flowers in his rage.

Breathing hard, he tried to stop the tears from pouring down his cheeks when he heard Sam spoke again.

"What happened after, that was all him. I didn't kill Oliver, _Oliver_ killed Oliver." Sam chuckled aloud. Troye heard him coming closer to him in a few steps and clasped his hands on Troye's arm in a tight grip. Troye's eyes shot open and instantly hit with an intensity piercing from Sam's eyes. Troye's body betrayed him when it let out an unwanted shudder. His face was much too close to Troye's, with every breath Sam exhaled, the heat of it hit off of Troye's cheeks. Sam then released one of his grip and lifted his fingers to Troye's ear, playing at the short hair there before tucking them back.

His skin was crawling with disgust at Sam's touch, and he had never felt a stronger urge to slap those hands away and kick him where he hurts. He would have done so if not for the man tied up in the chair behind him. Then, through the corner of his eyes, he saw Sam's lips curled upwards into a vexing grin. Then, he spoke his next words against his own mouth, his voice was noticeably lower, almost a whisper. "Besides, he took you away from me. I'd say he deserved everything he got."

Troye inhaled sharply and replied with all the calm that he could muster. "Fuck you, Emery. If anyone deserved to die, it's you. When I look at you, all I see is the pain and misery you've caused me. You've been terrorising me for so many years and you still think I'll get back with you? There's something terribly wrong with you, if you think that I could still love you. All that's left in my heart for you is hate. I hate you, I _despise_ you. There's nothing in this world that you could offer me that I'd want from you."

Sam took a step back and raised an eyebrow at Troye. "Hmm, really? I won't be so sure about that, if I were you. Certainly there's a couple of things that you'd want from me. Like that little pet detective behind you, for instance. I recalled you wanting me to let him go not too long ago."

As if on cue, a low moan came from behind him and he turned to see that Tyler had finally came to his wake. His head was rolling from one side to the other, groaning as if in pain and Troye dropped down to his knees and embraced Tyler's head within his hands. "Tyler, oh god, Tyler. Are you okay?"

Tyler groaned once before he tried to pry his eyes open, but the swell on his left eye was making the task quite difficult. "T-Troye..?"

"Yes, Tyler. It's me. It's Troye."

"T-Troye.. Y-you called me T-Tyler.."

He was attacked by so many mix emotion at once, he didn't know how to react. Relieved, anger, disbelief, annoyance. He was a mess and he let out a noise that was a cross between a whimper and a laugh at Tyler's words. "You need to sort out your priorities, detective."

Tyler tried to laugh but all that came out of his mouth was an unattractive croak, followed by a string of wheezy coughs.

"I hate to break up this sweet reunion but I think it's time we address the sole purpose of you being here." Sam's voice rang across the room. Troye rubbed gently on Tyler's chest, hoping to sooth the coughs a little before he turned his head to look at Sam without having to stand up. But then he noted his attention back at Tyler when he heard Tyler called for him.

"T-Troye.. I found her.. I found S-Sage.." Troye's eyes widen upon hearing that and contemplated if he'd heard it correctly. He'd never once mentioned anything about his sister to Tyler and yet, Tyler had said her name so confidently.

"Oh, come on, detective. You're spoiling all the fun for me, you big mouth! Can't you see I'm waiting for the opportune time to reveal that in a more dramatic manner? I should have gagged you when I had the chance." Sam said so disappointingly while he raked his fingers through his hair.

"Enough, Emery! What do you want from me? Do you want me to beg? Are you gonna make me watch him die? Haven't you tortured me enough?" Troye lashed out. It was hard to keep his emotions in check anymore, not when his sister was mentioned. He was dying to know what Tyler had meant, but he was also scared to hear it.

"Relax, spuddy. He's not gonna die. Not yet, at least. Like I told you earlier, your little boyfriend here plays a very important role. You'll see why in a minute, but before that, let's get her in here, shall we?" Sam said so nonchalantly before he let out a loud fingerless whistle that sounded across the room.

As the echo of the whistle slowly faded and the room was filled with pin-drop silence, Troye could feel his own heart pounding so rapidly in his throat, and all he could hear was the ringing sound of his blood in his ears. Then, he heard a few sets of footsteps outside of the door and when the door opened, Troye had forgotten how to breathe.

There she was, as beautiful as the last time he saw her, despite the exhaustion that was reflected in her eyes. He darted his eyes all over her to check if she was hurt any where and sighed in relief when he saw that she wasn't. "Sage!"

"Toki.." Sage called out to him with a timid voice. She didn't even try to move as she was held tightly by Jack, her hands bound behind her back. She just looked at Troye with a sad and dreary gaze, her pale face was a picture of fear and worry. Troye once again felt the fiery rage boiling up from within him. The anger that he felt for that vile man knows no end.

"Well, well, well. Isn't this wonderful? Everyone's here and we can pretend to be a big happy family again!" Sam said in a fake cheery voice but quickly being reprimanded by Troye.

"You bastard! My sister has nothing to do with any of this! Why did you have to take her? She's innocent!" Troye screamed at the top of his lungs, his control was getting out of hand.

"You really can't blame me for that, spuddy. You see, if only you'll come back to me like a good little boy you were, I wouldn't have resorted to any of these. After the incident with Oliver, I thought you'll see more reason with my demands. All I wanted, was for you to take me back, to be with me, to let me love you. But I should've known you're as stubborn as an ox, maybe even more. Not only you didn't appreciate all that I've done for you, showed you how wrong everybody else was for you, you went and broke my heart again and again with all those stringless fuck you pick up on the streets? I can't let you do that! I need to have a bargaining chip with me at all times!" Sam reasoned his actions with crazy excuses, his behaviour was nothing short of a delusional mad man ready to kill in the name of his own cause.

Troye wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. He was in utter disbelief in the ability of this man to spin straws into gold with the most ridiculous excuses ever. "You've taken three years of my sister's life and you think you're doing that for me? How deranged are you? Can't you see that all you've done had only made me hate you more?"

"Call me all the names you want, but I know that you can't deny your love for your own sister. So when a little bird told me about this pet that you've been seeing on and off, I began to concoct a plan to see if you have abandoned your search for her and indulged in the little fling with him. But imagine my surprise when I found out that your pet is the detective that has been on my tail all these years, that just made my plan all the more fun!"

Troye yelled in a mixture of his anger and frustration before he began to charge towards Sam with the intention to hurt. Sam was quick to act. One instance he was rooted to his spot with his hands crossed behind his back, the next he dodged out of Troye's flinging arms and very swiftly fished out something from his pocket and flashed it in front of Troye's face, successfully halting all movements.

The sound of harsh breaths filling the room as Troye observed the item in Sam's hand. It was something that resembled a remote, with only a row of buttons along the length of it; one black, one blue, one green and a blinking red light at the very top of it. Troye didn't know what the remote does or where it was connected to, but everything in him was screaming at him to err on the side of extreme caution.

"Calm down, spuddy. You'll wanna have a clear mind when I let you handle this." Sam's voice was now mocking.

"I said, _stop_ call me that." Troye said through his gritted teeth.

Sam smirked that same hateful smirk at Troye before he opened his mouth again. "Ah, I have a feeling you won't even care about that anymore in a while. Care to find out?" He gestured to Jack at the door before Troye had the chance to answer and with that, Jack lowered the zipper of Sage's jacket to reveal a device with a small black screen which colourful wires were being connected to it and arranged neatly around the device, being strapped across her chest. The blinking red light on both the device and on the remote were blinking in sync.

Realisation hit Troye so hard, he felt all air escaped his lungs.

"Seeing the color draining from your face, I think you know what that is, don't you? My, my. Aren't you still as clever? See? That's why I love you the most, but I think you already know that. The question is, do you know who _you_ love?"

Troye snapped his head back at Sam, shooting a razor sharp gaze on the remote that were being dangled so recklessly in between Sam's fingers. "What the fuck are you talking about? She's my sister, you asshole! Of course I love her!"

Sam let out a roaring laughter at the expense of Troye's outburst. He was laughing so hard, he was heaving so harshly by the end of it. "Oh, spuddy. You crack me up! I haven't even tell you the best part yet."

Sam took one step forward to manuveur both of them to stand in between Sage and Tyler. Reluctantly, Troye followed him.

"Let's not waste anymore time now, shall we?" Sam said into his ear from behind him.

"The thing around Sage is a custom made bomb that was created as per my instructions. It cost me quite some money to have it made, since I wanted it made quite intricately. I'll try to explain the mechanics to you as best as I can. You see, this remote here not only detonates the bomb, but it also can make it stop. Sounds straight forward enough, doesn't it?" Sam asked with a fake interest and Troye didn't dare to answer. He felt as though whatever he say will be the wrong answer. Then Sam continued.

"Well, what made it so intricate is that this bomb, it has a _twin_." Sam paused just so he could let his word sink in. "Yes, that's right. And that twin is currently strapped onto your little pet boyfriend. So now, things get a little bit more interesting."

Troye released bursts of short exhales as the panic started to rise in his chest. The fact that Sam kept pacing back and forth in front of him didn't help the ease down the spinning sensation he felt in his head.

"So, when I press this black button, the time will start to countdown from five minutes on both the bombs. But fear not! I won't let both of them die together. What's the fun in that, huh, spuddy?" Troye swallowed hard as he listened to Sam chuckling at his own dark joke. "I'm really curious as to what's going in your mind, how you love the people you love. So, I thought, what better way to know the level of devotion you have towards them than witnessing first hand who you choose to save. Blue and you'll stop the time on his bomb and green on her. And _choose wisely_ , my sweet spud, because once you stop one of the twin, the countdown on the other will speed up."

The atmosphere in the room had dropped significantly at Sam's word. Without giving any respond time, Sam started the countdown on the bombs and shoved the remote into Troye's shaky hand. "Don't you think my design is brilliant? You can answer me that later, after you've chosen whom you'll blow up. Tick, tock, spuddy. I'll see you when I see you."

And with that, Sam and his men took their exit, leaving Troye with an insurmountable responsibility. It was terribly inhuman to be put in this position, to decide who lives and who dies. Three person in the room and only two will be walking out the room alive. His mind was racing, just as the time on the screen was reducing. To his left, Sage had broken down on the floor, whimpering fearfully and to his right, Tyler was watching him with a determined look on his face, like he was volunteering to sacrifice himself.

"T-Troye.. W-what are you waiting for? Go with her.. S-save her.." Tyler croaked.

 _04:30_  
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_04:29_  
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_04:28_  
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"Toki.. It's o-okay.." Troye heard Sage sobbed. He knew what Sage had meant, he knew that Sage won't blame him if he chooses Tyler. But how _could_ he? How could he choose either one of them, knowing that the other will die?

 _04:01_  
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_04:00_  
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_03:59_  
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"T-Troye, she's your sister. It's n-not rocket science.."

Troye closed his eyes and took a long drag of air. And when he opened his eyes again, he raised his hand holding the remote and pointed, and then he pressed the button. He had heard the increasing beeping sound on Tyler's timer before he saw the one on Sage had stopped. Very quickly, he ran over to haul Sage onto her feet and gave her a tight hug before he shove her out the door, and instructed her to get out as far as she can.

"Go, Sagey. I'll be right behind you. I love you so so much, my darling." With one last hug, Sage ran. Troye shut the door behind him and went over to kneel down in front of Tyler again, only to see the beaten face smiling at him.

"I s-should have taught you how to d-defuse a bomb instead of how to shoot a gun, huh?" Tyler said jokingly and Troye couldn't stop the laugh that made its way out of his mouth. He cupped Tyler's cheek lovingly, brushing his thumb on the dampen skin.

 _03:15_  
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_03:14_  
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_03:13_  
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"Y-you don't have to feel g-guilty about this. I won't h-hold it against you. I'd do the s-same if I were in your shoes." Tyler spoke again before he was shushed by the thumb on his lips.

"I don't think I've ever told you this, but I think ever since the first time I've met you, I've felt more myself than I've ever been. There's just something about you that calls out to me, that made me feel things that I've not felt in a while."

 _02:45_  
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_02:44_  
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_02:43_  
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"For the longest time, I've been trying to deny the feelings that was clawing their way out of my heart because I fear them. I fear that those feelings will bring you harm. But in truth, I think I've harmed you either way. I've hurt you with all the lies and the secrets. I've been so blinded by my own monster that I don't see how hurt you were. I'm so sorry, Tyler."

 _01:59_  
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_01:58_  
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_01:57_  
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"Troye-"

"You don't know how happy you've made me. All these months, you made me forget all those that had haunted me every night. Every time I had a nightmare, I snuggled up close to you and listened to the beat of your heart and I would feel much calmer. I should have known then. I was stupid and ignorant, but _I should have known_." Troye smiled at Tyler as the tears trickled down his cheeks. The beeping sound from Tyler's timer was sounding so incessantly but Troye wasn't bothered by it anymore. He raised both his hands and hold Tyler's head, each hand palming his cheeks so gently.

And then, there was a sparkle of realisation in Tyler's eyes as Troye rested his forehead against his own. Tyler began to struggle against the coarse ropes that was tying him down and ignoring the searing pain on his sides, all in the effort to try to loosen it. "Troye, what are you doing? You should go now. You don't have much time. If you run now, you could still make it."

 _01:01_  
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_01:00_  
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_00:59_  
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"No, Tyler. I won't run anymore. I know my feelings now and I've accepted them. I finally have the courage to own up to them. It was you, who showed me how to love so selflessly. It was you who taught me how to love without fear, as long as we have each other."

 _00:27_  
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_00:26_  
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_00:25_  
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"I won't run anymore, because I'm exactly where I should be." Troye words ghosted along Tyler's lips before he closed the remaining gap and kissed him. Tyler's lips were cakey from the dried blood but he didn't care one bit. He pressed their lips a little harder together and smiled as he felt Tyler began to respond. He parted his lips, letting Tyler deepened the kiss and felt a tremor vibrating from their bodies.

 _00:04_  
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_00:03_  
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_00:02_  
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Troye pulled back from their kiss and smiled so sweetly at Tyler. He was happy.

 _00:01_  
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"I love you, Tyler Oakley."

 _00:00_  
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_._


	18. final chapter

There were moments in life where something seemed to be impossibly complicated turned out to be quite simple once it was stripped off of its unprioritised factors. The moments during harsh times made the situation less ideal, but at the same time they forced the shift of priorities in order to meet with a good decision. A thin line between two pivotal choices, it was extremely easy to be confused as to what was the right thing to do. But once the line was broken, it became simple.

It was never about who he loves more or the guilt he would feel towards the person whom he'll let die. He wasn't given the luxury to contemplate about which would hurt _less_ , because there will be no such thing. Time was of the essence and whether he liked it or not, he had to go with his guts.

Sage was his everything. She was the best sister he could ever asked for. She loves him unconditionally, accepts him without qualms and questions. She didn't even think twice to leave everything behind when she decided to have 'a little adventure' together with him. The 'adventure', as she called it, was her way of making his banishment by his own father sounds much more appealing.

After the incident with Emery, not one day that went by that he didn't blame his father for ruining every happiness that he'd ever felt. And as prideful a man his father is, he was determine to teach his son the real meaning of happiness. So, he told him to leave and see how long he could make it by himself before he came home crying like a child.

And he haven't, because of Sage.

He didn't, by any chance, think that saving Sage and then leaving her alone to fend for herself was any kind of fairness to her. He knew that it will pain her so, even hate him to an extend for dying on her. But he also knew that she's strong, she will come to an understanding of his choice someday. She had sacrificed so much for him, and he would like to keep making good on his promises to always be there for her and protect her. But in these circumstances, he didn't see any other way but to fulfill only one of the two.

The truth was, dying is his selfish and easy way to end the mess that he had made. Too many people have been hurt because of him, and he was responsible to put a stop to it. Oliver, Edith, Sage, and now Tyler. He couldn't possibly put it into words the amount of guilt that he felt towards Tyler for condemning him into this situation. He didn't think he deserved all the love and affection that Tyler had grown for him. He didn't deserved the understanding and forgiveness that Tyler had shown him through his actions. He was a diseased pariah, anyone who came near him would meet with a disastrous end. Seeing Tyler so beaten and tied up, knowing that he was the reason behind it, shattered his heart. And once he decided that he have to save Sage, he knew he couldn't let Tyler die alone.

So, once the line was broken, it was simple. It was clear and Troye was content to die with him.

"I love you, Tyler Oakley." And he closed his eyes, awaiting to receive his penance for all of his wrongdoings. There was a moment before everything comes to an end, all the mixed emotions were replaced by an unexpected tranquility that birthed from the depths of his soul. There was no more conflict, no more guilt, and no more fear, for death is just another path that all must go through. So, he braved it, he embraced it. He hadn't come to this world at the same time as the man he loves, but at least this way, he get to leave with him. To where, he doesn't know but he derived the comfort from the thought of finding out together.

Peace.

And before he realised that something wasn't quite right, he felt a nudge against his forehead, and he opened his eyes to see Tyler's boring back at his. There was a glimpse of confusion and unsureness flashed by those greeny-blue eyes before he realised the complete silence that was penetrating the room so loudly. The beeping sound had stopped and the air in the room was in absolute stillness.

His heart was betraying him again, as he felt a flimsy shred of hope began to sprout. Neither one of them dared to move, they won't even breathe in too much air. Troye back off from Tyler ever so slowly and gazed down to Tyler's chest. The red light was visible through the material of Tyler's shirt, it was still blinking like those fairy lights hung on christmas trees but nothing else was happening. He pulled his gaze back up to meet Tyler, only to see the same realisation plastered on his face.

They were still alive.

Then, the door swung open suddenly and Troye could have been startled by the abrupt noise, but he was far too distracted by the amount of uniformed people pouring in the room, invading the silence the room once have. All of them were dressed in thick suit with a big head gear over the top, it was almost like a suit for an astronaut but in black. The letters stamped onto the front of their chest spelled out the words 'BOMB SQUAD', and with what was left of his coherent thoughts, Troye understood that there might still be a chance for him and Tyler to come out of this alive.

"Gentlemen, please stay put. We're here to make sure everyone's safe. It may have been rigged but it's still a live one. Please stay calm and be as still as possible." One of the black suited man spoke as he came nearer to them to observe the situation. He gestured for Troye to retreat as slowly and as cautiously as possible, with the sole purpose of minimising any abrupt movement that might trigger the bomb. Troye had reluctantly scooted backwards on the floor, inch by inch, until he was scooped up and wrapped with thick blanket as soon as he was in a safe range.

He couldn't tear his gaze away from Tyler, not even for a second, and he felt all the questions began bombarding his spinning brain. He could feel his heart in his throat as he watched the suited man deposited himself in front of Tyler, slowly cutting Tyler's restraints free before moving on to cut the shirt open, revealing the bomb that was strapped underneath it. It was what he would have expected, the four zeros in red light splashed across the black screen, but seeing it with his own eyes still shook him of its surreality.

And as he watched the man worked, diligently differentiating the similar wires strapped around Tyler's torso, his breaths were trapped in his throat. The panic was blaring disturbingly in the back of his mind and the fingers curled on the blanket were getting numb by the amount of force he was gripping it. His eyes were locked onto Tyler as the man began cutting the wires, one at a time. He had to keep forcing the air to regulate in his lungs as the sound of each cut of the wires resonated through the room.

The tension was through the roof and the suspense was at its highest. He could feel his sweat began to bead at the nape of his neck and on his back. With each cut that wasn't followed up by an explosion, he let out a gasp that sounded much like a whimpering sob. He can't help it. He was in such a mess.

Accepting his death was comparatively easier than to be given hope again after. Floating on the terrain of peace one second and then being thrown into the blind eye of a storm the next was particularly hazardous for his mentality. His heart was in such a contradiction that he didn't think he could understand it. But as soon as the hope appeared, he grabbed on to it without much consideration and opened up the door for more daring thoughts to materialise. _Want_. He wanted to live, he wanted to love, and he wanted to have disgustingly happy future with the man he loves. He wanted Tyler.

Seeing the man extracting the wires ever so slowly was unnerving to no end. The thick blanket around him gave no comfort as he felt every prickle on his nerves with every breath he took. Then suddenly, Tyler's head shot up and the look he gave was saying a thousand different things to Troye. Before Troye knew what those meant, he saw that the man had already stood up from where he was kneeling, with the bomb securely within his grasp, and walking cautiously towards his teammates that were waiting for him.

His heart threatened to leap out of his chest as he dashed off to Tyler from where he stood. He sprinted to Tyler as quickly as he can, giving the others in the room no regard at all and planted a passionate kiss onto Tyler's receiving lips. He tried to pour all of his messed up emotions into the kiss, hoping that Tyler would know the utter elation he felt through their locked lips. Tyler responded and doubled the passion as his hands came up and curled his fingers possessively at the back of Troye's neck.

They kissed without a care for the anyone else but themselves, and with each press of lips, they let go of all their worries and further cemented their love for each other. Their show of affection was cut short as a choked grunt escaped through Tyler's lips. His hand immediately shot up to the tender spot on his side and Troye's eyes widen in panic.

"Oh my god, Tyler. I'm so sorry! You're hurt and I shouldn't have done that. I was so scared and I just wanted to kiss you so badly that I wasn't thinking-"

"It's okay, Troye. It's just a little sore."

"- about anything else but the fact that I really, really wanted to kiss you but I wasn't sure if you would-"

"Troye, it's alright. I'm good."

"-hate me for all of these because I would hate me if I were you but I sincerely hope that you won't- _mmmpphh_.."

Troye's panic rambling was halted by another swift kiss on his lips and he couldn't help but melt into the kiss that spoke volumes of Tyler's feelings. They went on with it for a moment before Tyler pulled back to draw some lost breaths.

"-because I love you.." Troye finished his sentence in a breathless whisper.

"Do I have to be near death or in pain every time I want to hear you say that?" Tyler asked in a cheeky tone and was rewarded with a glorious laugh from Troye. Only after he'd heard it that he realised how rare that laugh was. He'd decided that he loves hearing that sound and Tyler gave in to mirror it, but with the laugh, the muscles on his side contracted and he winced slightly.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but I think it's best we get someone to look at your injuries, Detective Oakley."

Both of them turned their heads at the same time to look at the person standing beside them. At first glance, Troye didn't believe his own eyes at the face he was looking at. He knew this man, in fact he'd seen him just moments ago under an entirely different setting. But then, his hair was shorter and more suave, and he was wearing a FBI vest.

"Jack..?" The unsureness was obvious in Troye's voice.

"Oh! I guess I should've introduced myself. Finn Harries, FBI. Jack's my brother." He said while flashing his badge at them to strengthen his words.

Tyler realised that he knew that voice. It was the voice of the other man that prevented him to be beaten into a pulp earlier. But he also recognised the name. " _Harries_.. You guys are undercovers for the FBI? No wonder we couldn't get any intel about you two." Tyler mused at his own realisation and suddenly aware of something else. "Wait, what about all those people whom were reported missing from Sam's club?"

"Ah, they were all false. They were purposefully planted by the us as a ruse to tip you guys off a little." Finn said a little sheepishly.

Tyler raised his eyebrow in question. "So, all those hours of stake outs, they were for nothing?"

"Yeah. Sorry, mate. When my brother and I first infiltrated the syndicate three years ago, we've proposed to throw this whirlwind of gossip out around us with the intention of creating a distraction for Sam Pepper. And when he saw how our little show was raking in money for him, he just ate it up without much questions." Finn paused as he made way for the medic to attend to Tyler's injuries. Troye stood there being quite baffled, and quietly witnessing the exchange between the two men in front of him, and he found himself got more confused as the conversation went on.

"We knew that Sam have had connections with your chief and a few other highly placed officers in the city, which was why we tried to gather as much evidence as we can before we finally take a dig at him. And I'm happy to tell you that we've done that. We've had enough evidence to nail him for life. I believe he and his men were being escorted to the headquarters as we speak." Finn shot them a smile that was equal part of professionalism and friendliness, like he couldn't hide the giddiness that he felt for bringing down the most ruthless syndicate in the history. Tyler reciprocated the smile and basked in the knowledge that the good guys had triumphed, even though he had to escape death by hair's breadth.

"But I need to apologise for the way you've been treated, Detective Oakley. I'm sure you could understand that we've tried to help you any way we can without raising any suspicion. When we found out about his plan in regards of the bombs, we've taken every precaution that we can and have my brother rigged them beforehand. I assure you that you were in no danger at all, and I'm incredibly impressed by the bravery that you've shown in times of extreme hardship."

With the mention of the bomb, Troye gasped. "Sage! Oh my god, is she alright? Is she-"

"Oh, don't worry about that. She's currently being checked by the medics as well. Nothing serious, just a standard protocol. I assure you, she's in good hands." Finn answered Troye with the same friendly smile on his face before he turned professional again.

"I'm really sorry that we couldn't nail that bastard sooner. And that all of you had to go through this terrible experience. But I have to say, all of you have shown incredible devotion to each other and I'm honoured to have witnessed the true meaning of selfless love. It's a pleasure knowing both of you." Finn concluded before he nodded at them and made his exit, leaving the medic to continue tending to Tyler's injuries as Troye watched.

Maybe it was the adrenaline, or the news of Sam's capture, or maybe it was merely because he'd had multiple broken ribs, but Tyler felt as though his heart had grown at least three size bigger in his chest. The happiness was overflowing in his heart and he felt it inflate until his heart was pushing against the wall of his ribcage. The exhilaration that was coursing through his body was making him feel so light, he could walk on air. And when the medic had finished bandaging him, Troye came to kneel in front of him again.

The look on Troye's face were nothing but tenderness and love. Tyler lifted his hand to caress Troye's cheek, wiping off the dried trails of tears with his thumb before Troye brought his hand up to closed it over his own.

"Troye, you stupid fool. You're were so ready to give up your life for me." Tyler started and he was surprised that by saying those words out loud, they had almost choked him with so much emotions. He swallowed them all and looked intently into Troye's soft eyes.

"Yes. I'm quite stupid when it comes to you. But.. you still love me, don't you?" Troye replied him with an uncertainty swimming in his voice. Tyler could almost laugh at the foolishness that was Troye, for needing to ask such atrocity to him. But after everything they had just went through, he saw no amusement for all the insecurities that were induced. So, Tyler reassured Troye the only way he knew Troye would understand, and pulled their faces together to let their lips lock and speak to each other. As expected, Troye responded and committed himself into the sweet kiss. When they parted, Tyler whispered against his mouth.

"I love you, Troye Sivan."

***

_*Two years later*_

"Mmmm, Tyler.. No, stop it.."

The sun was up and the stream of yellow light peaked through the slit of the curtain into their room.

"Tyler.. Mmmm.. Sto- _Oh_! Oh god, Tyler, _yess_.. That feels good.."

The sunlight bouncing off the porcelain skin had made it all the more irresistable.

" _Ooohhhh_! Ty- Tyler! _Hmmmmpphh_ , no.. S-stop, ugh.. stop it."

He rested one hand on Troye's waist and the other underneath Troye's head as he kept on laving his tongue on the tender spot behind Troye's ear. He had just woken up not five minutes before Troye and didn't waste any time to show Troye how happy today was for him. He kept his mouth fastened on his neck and made small circles with his tongue while his hand traveled from Troye's waist down towards his navel. He teased the fine hair on Troye's happy trail and felt Troye jerked a little, before he wiggled and thrust his hips backward and came in contact with Tyler's morning wood.

"Mmmm, baby.." Tyler moaned into Troye's ear as he began to trail his fingers along the outline of Troye's hardening cock. Tyler smirked as he felt the hard length twitched at his soft touch, followed by a needy whine that spilled through Troye's lips. He was bucking his hips forward in search for the friction that he craved, the friction that his ghosting fingers weren't providing.

"H _hnggggh_.. D-don't.. Tyler. We're gonna b-be late.." Troye said warningly but his tone sounded so conflicted. His breathing was starting to pick up as he couldn't stop rutting his ass against Tyler's cock. He even buried his head further into the pillow to allow Tyler more access to his sensitive neck.

"Oh.. f-fuck, Tyler.." Troye swore when Tyler's hand came to clasp around the base of Troye's length and began to stroke it lightly. "Oh god, _yess_. Yes, Tyler. Don't stop!"

"Hmm, baby. You're giving me such mixed messages. Do you want me to stop or don't stop?" Tyler teased as he quicken his stroke, tightening his grip on the hot cock and making sure he covered all area from the base until the tip, massaging and tapping on the slit and smeared the precum on his palm before he started to stroke down again.

"A _hhh_ \- fuck! Yes, no.. Don't stop. Feels so good, Tyler.. _OH_!" Troye whined incoherently as Tyler began alternating his strokes with a little twist at the tip that he knew Troye liked. He grinned against Troye's neck before he returned his mouth to suck on the milky skin, wetting it as he swirled his tongue there. He lapped at it with such enthusiasm, as the saltiness of his dried sweat tasted so delightful with the natural scent that was Troye. Greedily, he covered that area with his lips with the intention to have more taste, and sucked hard enough to bruise.

"Oh! Oh, shit. No, stop it, Tyler." Troye jerked his head away and placed a hand over the spot Tyler had just sucked. "No, Tyler. You're not leaving a mark on my neck."

"Why, baby? You didn't seemed to mind them very much when I marked you all over your body before. In fact, I think you quite liked it." Tyler asked curiously as he tried to pull Troye back into his embrace.

"Nope. Not today, Tyler. Everyone's gonna see!" Troye reasoned with him and pulled away again. This time, he separated himself from Tyler's lying figure and sat up on the bed. The cover dropped and bunched around his waist before he grabbed a pillow from behind him to cover his very prominent arousal tenting the cover. He huffed in annoyance as a form to hide his embarrassment and conveniently shot a childlike frown at Tyler, which that had only prompted a chuckle from Tyler.

"Come on, baby. It's not like our friends don't already know we're fucking each other's brains out every now and then." Tyler said and his amusement grew when he watched the flush slowly rising up to colour Troye's cheeks, in addition to the comically widening eyes that was prompted by his words.

Tyler found it quite endearing that Troye seemed to blush more often whenever Tyler teased about something crude. He felt it in the core of his heart, that Troye was presenting his true self to him, that Troye no longer pretended to be someone else in front of him. That had made Tyler inexplicably happy and made him love Troye more.

"Tyler! I'm not having a bruise the size of Texas on my neck when we sign the papers later! Besides, your mom's gonna be there too. What is she gonna think of me when she saw that I've given up my virtue to you so repeatedly?"

"Oh, baby. I don't think that's any secret."

"Yes, I know! But that doesn't mean I want to be a walking reminder of how her son's been mauling me!" Troye told Tyler and whatever comeback Tyler has for that was momentarily forgotten as their conversation was interrupted by an incessant knocking on their door.

" _Toki? Tyler? Are you two up yet? Breakfast's ready_." They heard Sage called out sweetly over the door before there was a rattling of the brass lock. Troye's reflex was on fleek as he very quickly drew the cover that was bunched around his waist and brought it up to his chest for some temporary coverage. " _Ugh, damn it. I swear, one day I'm gonna learn how to pick a lock just so you two can't hide behind it anymore._ "

Troye let out a relieved sigh and beside him Tyler was cackling up a storm.

"Go away, Sage. The door's lock for very legitimate reasons, you know? I'm trying to give your brother an orgasm and you are killing our mojo right now. Besides, I don't think you'll ever be able to learn it." Tyler spoke loud enough for Sage to hear and said the next words in a volume that was only audible to Troye. "Because your hands are not as talented as your brother's."

Troye gasped at Tyler's innuendo and threw the pillow on his lap at Tyler to try and shush him. He shook his head lightly as he felt the heat returning to his cheeks. "What are you doing saying those things to my baby sister? She hasn't forgiven me for the whole bomb incident and you're just gonna get me into more trouble." Troye whispered loudly at Tyler. In return, Tyler just shot him a wicked grin before Sage spoke again.

" _Oh, really? Wanna bet?_ " Sage asked challengingly.

"It's on!" Tyler shouted back before Troye had the chance to stop him.

" _You got yourself a bet, Tyler. And hurry up, you two. City Hall waits for no man_."

And then they heard the light footsteps on the wooden floor casually tapping away from them. Troye shot Tyler a look of sympathy before he let the cover dropped back down to his waist. "Oh, Tyler. You don't wanna be in a bet with her."

"Ah, I'm not gonna dwell too much on that. Because, I'd rather continue where we've left off before she so rudely interrupted us just now." Tyler said with a cheeky grin.

"Where were we? I don't quite recall after you've so shamelessly shouted about our sex life to my baby sister." Troye muttered with a pout and Tyler wanted nothing more than to pull those full, pouty lips in between his teeth and suck on them and never leaving their bed. But there was just one thing he wanted more than that today, and those lips would have to wait.

Tyler let out a light chuckle before he shot out his hands and gripped Troye by his wrists. He jerked Troye forward until he landed on top of him, and was serenaded by the sweet sound of Troye's giggling.

"Okay, fine. I'm sorry, even though deep down, you know I'm not _that_ sorry. I just want to have the perfect morning with you." Tyler cooed and dove his mouth onto the same spot on Troye's neck and began to suck again. Troye groaned and tried to detach his neck away from Tyler's persistent mouth before he shot Tyler a half-hearted glare.

"Okay, okay. No lovebites today. But we can still do the other stuff right?"

"You're such a thirsty little thing, aren't you?" Troye said as he poked his index finger on Tyler's chest before he dragged a straight line towards the crimson-coloured hard nub.

Tyler bucked his hip upwards and heard a gasp from Troye as their still-hard pricks bumped into each other. "I can't help it, baby. My cock is always happy to see you."

"Wow, so romantic." Troye said playfully. But as he said it, he couldn't wipe the smile off of his face, even though his cheeks had began to hurt a little. Tyler reciprocated the smile and they kept the gazes on each other like that for a few serene moment before Troye duck his head to capture Tyler's mouth in a long, loving kiss. Their lips slid so smoothly against each other and both were eagerly drowning in the warmth that emanating off their bodies. With one last swipe, Troye pulled away and Tyler couldn't stop the words that had been swimming in his mind for a long time.

"How did I get so lucky with you, Troye Sivan?" It was cheesy, but he said it so earnestly.

Troye felt a lump formed in the back of his throat as he kept his eyes locked on the fond look Tyler was shooting him, and forced it back down before he answered.

"Low expectation, mostly." Troye said it in a low voice and lowered his gaze as if he wasn't confident of his own feelings.

Tyler grinned upon hearing Troye's response and his hand immediately went to search for Troye's beside them, intertwined their fingers together and held them up in between their faces. He waited for Troye to return his gaze on him before he dropped a kiss on Troye's knuckle and then on the black plain ring on Troye's fourth finger.

"Too bad that that's all I need."


End file.
